OF 


AT  M 

AT  URBAINA-CHAMPAJGN 
STACKS 


CENTRAL  CIRCULATION  BOOKSTACKS 

The  person  charging  this  material  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  renewal  or  its  return  to 
the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed 
on  or  before  the  Latest  Date  stamped 
below.  You  may  be  charged  a  minimum 
fee  of  $75.00  for  each  lost  book. 

Theft,  mutilation,  and  underlining  of  book*  are  reasons 
for  disciplinary  action  and  may  result  in  dismissal  from 
the  University. 

TO  RENEW  CALL  TELEPHONE  CENTER,  333-8400 
UNIVERSITY  OF    ILLINOIS    LIBRARY   AT    URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


0  2  1935 
OCT251996 

NOV  22  ajjj- 
OCT  0  5  199? 
NOV  1  o  m7 


When  renewing  by  phone,  write  new  due  date  below 
previous  due  date.  L162 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  JORIO 


OF  THE 


THE 

DAUGHTER  OF 

A  PASTORAL   TRAGEDY 


TRANSLATED    FEOM    THE    ITALIAN 

BY 

CHARLOTTE   PORTER,  PIETRO   ISOLA 
AND  ALICE   HENRY 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1916 


Copyright,  1904, 
BY  GABRIELE  D'Avwuxzio. 

Copyright,  1907, 
BY  DIRCE  ST.  CYR. 

Stage  rights  reserved 

Copyright,  1907, 
BY  THE  POET  LORE  COMPANY. 

Copyright,  1907, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved 


Printers 
S.  J.  PAKHILL  <fc  Co.,  BOSTOS,  U.S.A. 


/ 

THE    LAND    OF   THE    ABRUZZI,  TO   MY   MOTHER 

GLS  x 

TO    MY    SISTERS,   TO    MY   BROTHEBS 

ALSO 

» 
TO    MY   FATHER,  ENTOMBED,    TO    ALL   MY   DEAD 

AND   TO   ALL   MY   RACE    BETWEEN   THE 

MOUNTAIN    AND   THE    SEA 

THIS    SONG    OF    THE    ANTIQUE    BLOOD 

I    CONSECRATE 


INTRODUCTION 

AN  elemental  savor  of  the  savage  blood 
of    the    ancient    race    clings    to    the 
country  of  the  Abruzzi.     This  ele- 
mental   quality,    intensely    impressional    and 
tragic,    underlies   the   light   sensitive   beauty 
and  bright  artistic  grace  characteristic  of  Italy 
in  general. 

The  lore  and  customs  of  the  native  folk, 
growing  the  vine  and  olive  in  the  sunny  slopes 
running  seaward  to  the  southern  Adriatic, 
have  been  shut  away  from  the  easy  touch  of 
western  Europe  by  the  towering  ridge  of  the 
Apennines,  on  whose  rugged  slopes  the  sheep 
are  pastured.  It  is  still  the  most  archaic,  the 
most  stubbornly  unmetropolitan  corner  of 
Italy.  Here,  even  more  than  elsewhere  in  the 
country  beloved  of  all  other  younger  countries, 
the  mediaeval  and  the  Pagan  worlds  linger  in- 
timately together,  blending  faiths  and  customs. 
It  is  a  good  soil  and  a  fertile  for  growing  an 
enduring  masterpiece  that  shall  gather  Italy 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 

up  into  its  being,  and  taste  of  the  profound, 
immortal  heart  of  the  land. 

In  this  land  of  the  Abruzzi,  and  in  the  dim 
enchanted  epoch  of  "  once  upon  a  time,"  "  The 
Daughter  of  Jorio  "  is  set.  As  the  drama  un- 
folds it  carries  with  it  this  charmed  atmosphere. 
Who  reads  or  hears  this  "  song  of  the  antique 
blood  "  is  suddenly  at  home,  too,  in  the  Abruzzi, 
and  catches  the  life  along  with  the  music  of 
many  years  ago. 

As  descendants  from  the  Abruzzi  stock,  two 
friends  —  D'Annunzio,  the  poet,  and  Michetti, 
the  painter,  travelled  throughout  their  father- 
land together,  faring  up  the  majestic  snow- 
cloaked  Maella  and  the  precipitous  Gran 
Sasso,  to  and  fro  among  the  rocky  sheepsteads 
and  caverns  of  the  mountains,  and  along  the 
bordering  stretches  of  sea-shore. 

They  heard,  then,  a  name,  spoken  in  a  way 
belonging  to  common  custom  there.  Grown 
persons  in  this  pastoral  region  are  still  known 
in  patriarchal  manner,  not  by  their  own  names 
but  merely  as  son  or  daughter  of  their  father. 
The  melody  of  the  name  thus  heard  haunted 
the  memories  of  the  artist-travellers.  As  the 
gipsy  refrain  Browning  heard  while  a  boy 
thrilled  his  blood  like  a  call  from  the  Wild  — 

xii 


INTRODUCTION 

"  Following  the  Queen  of  the  Gipsies,  O ! "  and 
bore  poetic  fruit  long  afterward  in  "  The  Flight 
of  the  Duchess,"  so,  likewise,  this  sonorous 
name  stirred  the  secret  chords  of  artistic  re- 
sponse in  the  imagination  of  these  two  friends 
and  bore  subconscious  fruit  in  them.  The 
fruit  is  different  enough,  yet  of  a  kindred  germ 
and  flavor.  Each  has  rendered  it  as  a  tribute 
to  the  mother-country  in  whose  traditions  he 
was  cradled. 

The  name  they  heard  —  "  La  figlia  di  Jorio," 
meaning  much  to  them,  little  to  another,  — 
may  now  be  understood  to  be  in  itself  eloquent 
of  the  old  tribal  feeling.  This  feeling,  sinking 
the  son  in  the  father,  places  him  apart  from 
any  other  rule  or  influence  than  that  of  his  own 
kith  and  kin.  It  admits  no  honorable  union  with 
one  outside  the  clan  without  pang  and  social 
upheaval. 

The  mere  name  thus  held  within  it,  for  the 
imaginative  conception  of  genius,  the  seed  of 
tragic  social  clash  between  alien  castes  or  war- 
ring rival  families.  Such  clash  between  war- 
ring Italian  families  Shakespeare  showed  in 
the  love  of  a  Capulet  and  a  Montague. 
The  imperative  elemental  drawing  together  of 
Juliet  and  her  Romeo  ran  counter  to  long- 

xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

established  grooves  of  social  cleavage.  It  was 
a  cleavage  not  to  be  welded  except  through  the 
woe  and  spiritual  triumph  of  love.  Such  clash 
between  the  established  pastoral  clan  and  the 
outcast  is  the  theme  which  slumbered  in  this 
name  for  both  D'Annunzio  and  Michetti. 
D'Annunzio's  development  of  it  leads  by  a 
different  path  to  a  triumph  of  love  as  spirit- 
ually exalting  and  as  socially  significant  as 
Shakespeare's. 

For  Michetti,  the  haunting  name  resulted, 
shortly  after  their  journey,  in  some  wonderful 
pictures,  —  sketches  in  water-color  for  a  great 
painting  in  oil,  now  owned  in  Berlin,  where  it 
gives  lustre  to  the  Geeger  collection,  —  later 
a  large  pastel  exhibited  in  1895,  in  the  Inter- 
national Exposition  of  the  Fine  Arts  at  Venice. 

Michetti's  imagination  presented  the  daugh- 
ter of  Jorio  as  a  wanderer,  with  a  cloak  cover- 
ing her  head  and  held  shieldingly  over  the 
breast  by  the  right  hand,  while  she  passes  a 
group  of  staring  rustics.  Her  long  rushing 
strides,  as  of  one  who  "  knows  well  the  path- 
ways," have  a  strangely  alluring  motion,  like 
that  of  a  majestic  hunted  fugitive.  One  of 
the  five  men  whose  gaze  she  attracts  is  riveted 
by  her  look.  To  the  others  she  means  less  than 

xiv 


nothing.  She  is  an  outcast  or  a  laughing-stock. 
To  this  one  she  means  a  mystic  appeal  thrown 
into  his  life  to  stamp  it  forever. 

Not  until  many  years  after  the  journey 
through  the  Abruzzi,  in  1903,  at  Mettuno,  the 
haunting  name,  fused  with  some  germinal 
impression  flowing  from  Michetti's  pictures, 
resulted  for  D'Annunzio  in  his  "  La  Figlia 
di  Jorio."  The  plot  is  of  his  own  pure  imagi- 
nation all  compact.  It  rests  upon  no  legend, 
he  says.  The  creative  idea  came  in  a  compel- 
ling influence  that  gripped  him  while  busied 
in  other  absorbing  poetic  work  belonging  to  a 
series  he  has  had  in  mind,  and  involving  his- 
toric research  in  the  past  of  Italy.  These  an- 
nals of  the  Malatesta  this  sudden  influence  bade 
him  put  aside.  It  called  him,  instead,  to  pour 
himself  out,  with  an  ardor  imperious  and  self- 
assured,  in  a  glowing  flood  of  strongly-stressed 
rhythmic  poetry.  The  flood  of  fire  took  molten 
shape  in  this  tragedy.  It  embodied  not  the 
historic  life  of  warring  nobles,  but  the  obscure, 
toiling,  pastoral  life  of  antique  Italy. 

The  result  is  a  tragedy  vividly  spectacular, 
dramatically  strong  and  simple.  The  pictur- 
esque loveliness  belonging  to  the  opening  of 
each  act  is  cut  sharply  across  with  the  ruthless 

xv 


INTRODUCTION 

inrush  of  direct  vital  action.  Into  the  graceful 
beauty  of  the  lyrical  espousal  scene  of  the  first 
Act  is  thrust  the  pitiless  hunting  down  of  Mila, 
the  daughter  of  Jorio,  by  the  brutal  barking 
band  of  reapers.  In  the  midst  of  the  serene 
idealism  of  the  uplifted  group  in  Aligi's  meagre 
mountain  cave,  where,  in  the  second  Act,  love 
and  art  and  insight  reinforce  and  befriend  each 
other,  close,  even,  upon  the  sanctity  of  the  kiss 
of  the  kneeling  lovers,  is  thrust  the  crass  bestial 
domination  of  the  lusty  Lazaro,  equipped  and 
privileged  to  do  his  evil  will.  This,  perforce, 
leads  to  the  lightning  stroke  of  the  murder. 
Finally,  in  the  third  Act,  the  poetic  veil  of 
meandering  lament  and  tender  commiseration 
of  the  kindred  for  the  stricken  family  is  rent 
away  by  the  brusque  entrance,  the  swift  direct 
speech,  and  decisive  help  of  the  daughter  of 
Jorio.  The  self -sacrifice  of  her  ripened  tran- 
scendent love  is  then  the  opportunity  for  con- 
centrating against  her  the  blind  clamor  of  their 
crude  social  justice.  The  final  climax  of  con- 
trasts is  attained  by  these  tumultuous  voices 
of  the  surging  mob  on  the  one  side  crying, 
'  To  the  fire,  to  the  flames  with  the  daughter 
of  Jorio!  "  and,  on  the  other  side,  by  the  voice 
of  the  clear-sighted  Ornella  calling  in  majesty, 

xvi 


DUCTION 

"  Mila,  Mila!  My  sister  in  Jesus,  I  kiss  your 
two  feet  that  bear  you  away!  Heaven  is  for 
thee ! "  and  the  soaring,  rapturous  voice  of 
Mila,  the  outcast,  who  has  taken  all  their  sins 
upon  herself,  and  who  cries,  "  The  flame  is 
beautiful!  The  flame  is  beautiful!" 

These  clear-cut  contrasts  are  masterly  for 
the  stage  either  of  the  theatre  or  the  human 
breast.  They  strike  to  the  quick  of  each  char- 
acter, to  the  core  of  the  meaning  of  every  situa- 
tion. Throwing  open  each  particular  heart  in 
its  degree  to  comprehension,  they  reveal  it  also 
to  sympathy.  At  the  same  time  they  cast  upon 
the  social  sanction  of  the  evil  domination  of 
Lazaro  and  upon  the  separate  woes  of  all  those 
"  who  suffer  and  know  not  wherefore,"  the 
larger  light  insensibly  illumining  the  plot  as 
a  whole  and  disclosing  its  typical  relation  to 
the  plot  of  life  in  general.  Thus,  in  the  emo- 
tionalized manner  possible  only  to  genius  at 
mountain-peak  moments,  the  play  illumines 
the  perennial  relations  of  a  predestined  love  to 
art  and  aspiration  and  of  all  three  to  social 
life,  which  sacrifices  all  three  when  it  wists  not 
what  it  does. 

The  vivid  picturesqueness  of  such  scenes  as 
those  of  the  espousal  rites,  in  the  first  Act ;  the 
*>  xvii 


INTRODUCTION 

mourning  of  the  kindred,  and  the  folk- judg- 
ment of  the  third  Act;  the  interesting  figures 
of  Malde,  the  treasure-seeker,  the  herb  gath- 
erer, and  the  wise  old  saint  of  the  mountain 
of  the  second  Act ;  in  fact,  the  homely  episodes 
of  pastoral  life  throughout  the  drama  rest 
upon  traditional  customs  and  rooted  beliefs  of 
the  Abruzzi. 

At  Pratola,  Peligna,  and  other  places  in  the 
Abruzzi  the  mother-in-law  receives  her  son's 
bride  into  her  house  with  a  nuptial  ritual  full 
of  poetic  symbolism,  —  a  ritual  independent 
of  that  of  the  Church.  According  to  Antonio 
de  Nino,  —  whose  work  on  the  "  Habits  and 
Customs  of  the  Abruzzi  "  scientifically  verifies 
the  folk-lore  D'Annunzio  puts  alive  before  us, 
—  the  mother  breaks  the  bread,  the  symbol 
of  fertility,  over  the  son  and  the  daughter. 
And  as  she  touches  the  forehead,  breast,  and 
shoulders,  she  says :  "  May  we  live  together 
like  Christians  and  not  like  cats  and  dogs." 
She  initiates  her  new  daughter  to  her  fireside 
by  calling  to  her  notice  home-objects  to  which 
special  virtue  was  attributed:  the  andiron- 
chain  that  could  lull  storms;  the  mortar  that, 
if  placed  on  the  window-sill,  lured  back  the 
stray  pigeon;  the  salt,  which  if  hung  in  a 

xviii 


INTRODUCTION 

pouch  around  the  baby's  neck  could  keep  it 
safe  from  the  vampire. 

The  bride's  kindred  came  to  share  in  the 
ceremonial  of  espousal,  as  in  the  play,  first 
gathering  at  the  house  of  the  mother,  whom 
they  always  brought  with  them  with  honor  at 
the  close  of  their  procession.  To  the  new  home 
they  advanced  in  single  file,  bearing  on  their 
heads  the  donora,  gifts  of  baskets  of  grain, 
with  fluttering  ribbons,  and  on  top  a  loaf  and 
a  flower.  There  was  always  some  play  of 
chaffering  at  the  door,  barred,  as  in  this  drama, 
with  a  ribbon  or  scarf  stretched  between  a  dis- 
taff and  a  bident,  the  implements  emblematic 
of  woman  and  man.  The  exchange  of  a  piece 
of  money  always  closed  the  bargain  and  gained 
them  entrance.  Then,  every  woman,  passing 
on  in  turn  to  the  bridal  pair,  before  lowering 
her  basket,  took  from  it  a  handful  of  grain  and 
scattered  it  over  each  head,  saying :  "  This  is 
the  bread  God  and  our  Lady  send  you.  May 
you  grow  old  together!  " 

The  folk-ritual  for  burial  and  the  improvi- 
sation of  the  laments  by  the  wailers  were  so 
elaborate  that  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  kept 
a  jealous  eye  over  then*  excesses.  A  decree  of 
1734  is  peculiarly  interesting  on  account  of  the 

xix 


INTRODUCTION 

recognition  it  supplies  that  these  customs  were 
bequests  from  a  Pagan  age.  It  declares  that 
if  the  women  who  indulge  in  the  abuse  of 
mourning  at  funerals  "  continue  to  disturb  the 
churchly  office  with  lamentation  and  wailing 
and  other  such  practices  of  paganism,"  the 
clergy  shall  cease  all  ministration  and  leave 
them  with  the  body  until  they  go  home  and 
"  let  the  body  alone,  so  that  the  service  can  be 
followed  according  to  the  usage  of  the  Roman 
ritual." 

Greater  poetic  interest  belongs  to  the  laudi 
in  the  Abruzzi  dialect,  examples  of  which  are 
given  in  De  Nino's  fourth  volume  (Usi  e  cos- 
tumi  abbruzzesi  par  Antonio  de  Nino.  5  vols. 
Barbera,  Florence.  1879-1891).  From  the 
text  of  one  of  these,  several  verses  are  employed 
by  D'Annunzio  in  the  third  Act.  He  greatly 
enhances  their  dramatic  effect  by  putting  them 
in  the  mouth  of  Candia,  when  with  wandering, 
benumbed  wits  she  repeats  bits  of  the  dialogue 
between  the  Sacred  Mother  and  her  suffering 
Son,  half  confusing  her  own  sorrows  over  her 
son  Aligi  with  those  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa. 

In  all  such  instances  heightened  beauty  and 
significance  are  given  to  the  Abruzzi  usages 
with  the  surest  and  most  delicate  art.  The 

XX 


INTRODUCTION 

throb  of  life  animates  it.  Yet  the  homely  truth 
to  reality  behind  the  adroit  touches  of  art  gifts 
the  play  with  vigor  and  concreteness. 

Even  the  passing  reference  of  Splendore  to 
the  petticoat  "  of  a  dozen  breadths'  fulness  " 
is  true,  for  example,  to  the  dress  of  the  women 
of  Scanno.  The  bridal  raiment  of  green,  also, 
"Of  gold  and  silver  the  yoke  is  fashioned 
But  all  the  rest  like  the  quiet  verdure,"  is  true 
to  the  preference  for  green  of  the  brides  of 
Canzano. 

Such  games  of  rivalry  for  the  straightest 
furrow,  as  that  of  which  Candia  reminds  her 
son,  were  held  at  Sora.  In  presence  of  the 
old  men  the  youths  ran  the  plough  from  the 
crest  of  the  hill  to  the  foot  of  the  valley,  when 
the  prize,  a  hat  or  a  scarf,  was  adjudged. 

The  "  barking  "  of  the  reapers  "  like  dogs  at 
each  passer  "  was  an  ancient  license  of  disorder 
at  harvest  time,  called  fare  I'incanata.  So,  the 
call  for  the  wine- jug  was  a  custom  belonging 
to  the  serenade  of  the  bridal  pair  on  the  mar- 
riage night.  The  song  over,  the  singers  ex- 
pected wine,  cheese,  and  a  loaf  to  be  handed 
them  outside  the  door. 

As  Aligi's  cavern,  the  scene  of  the  second 
Act,  has  its  prototype  in  an  actual  cavern  on 

xxi 


INTRODUCTION 

the  mountain  in  Abruzzia,  from  which  Michetti 
made  sketches  for  stage  use  in  the  Milan  pro- 
duction, so  also  the  shepherd  life,  as  it  is  pre- 
sented especially  in  this  Act,  has  its  model  in 
reality.  Their  quiet  existence,  aloft  among  the 
peaks,  leaves  the  shepherds  time  to  carve  their 
sheep-hooks,  as  Aligi  did,  and  to  achieve  such 
other  artistry  in  wood  as  Aligi  masters.  Their 
neighbor,  the  sky,  makes  dreamers  of  them,  too, 
like  Aligi,  and  not  infrequently  poets.  The 
mountain  affords  them  such  comrades  as  Aligi 
had  in  Malde,  the  treasure-diviner,  the  herb- 
woman,  wise  in  efficacious  simples,  and  the 
lofty,  serene-minded  Cosmo.  Perhaps  Cosmo 
is  not  meant  to  differ  greatly  in  nature  from 
the  distinguished  saint  of  the  Morrone  men- 
tioned by  Aligi,  Pietro  Celestino,  who  was  made 
Pope  Celestin  V.  in  1294,  but  who,  only  a  few 
months  afterwards,  abjured  the  stateliness  of 
Rome  for  the  hermit's  retired  life  upon  the 
mountain-side.  The  habit  of  life,  indicated  by 
Aligi,  is  that  of  the  shepherds  described  by 
Finamore  (II  pastor e  e  la  pastorizia  in  Abruzzo 
in  Archivo  per  lo  studio  delta  tradizioni  popo- 
lari,  IV.  190) .  They  select  a  sheepstead  in  the 
spring  and  collect  their  flocks,  living  near  them 
in  caves  or  huts  during  the  summer,  but  going 

xxii 


INTRODUCTION 

down  to  the  village  fortnightly  for  a  three  days' 
rest;  and  in  the  autumn  coming  down  with 
their  flocks,  and  going  on  with  them  either 
toward  Rome  or  Puglia.  Through  the  valleys 
and  across  the  mountains  they  hear  the  singing 
Pilgrims  passing  continually,  as  they  so  effec- 
tively come  and  go  in  the  stage  directions  of 
the  second  Act,  faring  to  and  fro  on  the  way 
to  such  shrines  as  Splendore  mentions  in  her 
reassuring  words  to  Mila,  —  Santa  Maria 
della  Potenza,  and  the  Incoronata. 

On  the  eve  of  the  Celebration  of  St.  John's 
Beheading  (August  29)  the  Plaia  or  the  Vir- 
gine  is  climbed,  according  to  custom,  toward 
midnight,  so  that  the  red  disk  of  the  August 
sun  may  be  seen  at  dawn  from  the  hilltop. 
To  the  beholder  of  the  apparition  of  the  saint's 
bleeding  head  in  the  disk  it  was  accounted,  as 
Aligi  deemed  it,  a  miraculous  sign  of  God's 
favor. 

D'Annunzio  himself  maintains  as  to  one  of 
the  superstitions  he  has  known  how  to  weave 
predominatingly  into  the  plot,  namely,  the 
sanctity  of  the  fireplace  as  a  refuge  from  vio- 
lence, that  it  is  Jewish  rather  than  Italian.  It 
may  be  so.  In  any  case  he  has  exercised  the 
right  of  a  poet  to  use  for  his  higher  verities 


INTRODUCTION 

what  he  needs  and  has  the  art  to  employ  vitally 
and  well.  It  may  be,  too,  that  he  has  been 
peculiarly  happy  in  grafting  so  distinctly  Jew- 
ish a  belief  on  the  rest  of  his  more  peculiarly 
Christian  and  Latin  beliefs,  because  there  is 
an  inner  link  of  association  between  Mila's 
fireside  and  such  a  sanctuary  from  their  pur- 
suers as  the  Adonijahs  and  Joabs  claimed  when 
they  "  laid  hold  upon  the  horns  of  the  altar." 
Feasts  were  held  and  burnt  offerings  were  de- 
voted to  Jehovah  on  such  altars.  And  simi- 
larly sacred  to  the  gods  of  the  hearthstone  of 
the  ancient  race  —  the  Lares  and  Penates  — 
was  the  fireside  of  the  Romans.  The  antique 
usage  that  marks  the  fireplace  and  sets  it  apart 
as  the  altar  or  temple  of  the  homestead  is 
architecturally  preserved  in  ancient  Italian 
buildings  by  the  monumental  setting  of  the 
hearthstone  above  the  level  of  the  floor  and 
the  prominent  hood  to  the  chimney.  The  utility 
of  this  arrangement,  as  usual  with  folk-myths, 
has  not  hindered,  but  rather  attracted,  a  reli- 
gious explanation. 

Such  a  fireplace  is  an  imporant  trait  of  the 
stage  directions  in  the  first  Act  for  the  scene- 
setting  of  the  home  of  the  Di  Roio  family.  It 
is  in  accord,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  furnishings 

xxiv 

V. 


INTRODUCTION 

of  the  house,  with  the  record  De  Nino  supplies 
of  the  typical  Abruzzi  homestead. 

When  the  daughter  of  the  alien,  of  the  sor- 
cerer Jorio,  claims  sanctuary  at  the  hearth,  she 
claims  it  not  alone  because  she  is  Christian  and 
therefore  can  justly  make  appeal  to  the  God 
of  this  hearth  and  this  household.  It  is  sig- 
nificant that  she  also  makes  her  appeal  by 
virtue  of  the  old  laws  of  the  hearthstone,  to 
gods  of  the  Pagan  race  and  the  ancient  kins- 
folk. The  sacredness  of  the  fireplace  as  the 
altar  of  each  home  is,  in  fact,  not  confined  to 
any  race.  The  North  American  Indian,  as 
well  as  the  Roman,  regards  it  religiously.  Such 
faiths  grow  from  a  human  root. 

In  the  play,  the  hearth,  like  the  Jewish 
altar,  becomes  a  mercy-seat,  to  be  held  invio- 
late from  violence  and  also  from  profanation. 
Mila  seeks  it  as  a  shrine  and  shield  from 
violence.  The  kindred  declare  that  she 
profanes  it. 

The  dependence  of  the  second  and  third 
Acts  upon  the  Roman  law  of  the  absolute  do- 
minion of  the  father  over  the  son,  and  the 
extreme  penalty  for  parricide  of  the  sack  and 
the  mastiff  and  the  deep  sea  is  justified  by  the 
ancient  Latin  code,  as  given  in  the  digest  of 


INTRODUCTION 

Modestinus  (xlviii,  tit.  9,  §  9) .  The  persistence 
in  the  bucolic  mind  of  such  grim  ancestral 
morality  causes  such  a  code  to  outlive  its 
natural  decay. 

One  of  the  allusions  to  the  ancient  credulities 
of  the  Abruzzi  which  is  most  essential  to  the 
plot  is  Aligi's  vision  in  the  first  Act  of  Mila's 
guardian  angel  standing  behind  her  weeping, 
and  thus  in  silence  revealing  the  innocency  of 
her  wronged  soul.  The  common  faith  in  the 
judgment  of  God  upon  the  deeds  of  men  being 
made  clear  in  a  flash  by  the  sudden  sight  of  the 
angel  in  tears  finds  expression  in  the  proverbial 
sayings:  "If  you  would  measure  the  offence, 
look  behind  the  right  shoulder  of  him  whom 
you  have  offended."  "  If  you  make  your  sister 
weep,  you  make  the  silent  angel  weep."  "  If 
you  forget  to  be  just,  the  angel  weeps." 

Curious  and  interesting  as  all  these  veritable 
traces  of  folk-lore  may  seem,  they  are  but  the 
dry  bones  to  which  the  poet  has  given  flesh  and 
breath.  Not  alone  the  rich  deep  soil  of  primi- 
tive custom  and  religion  in  which  he  has  rooted 
the  play,  but  the  spirit  of  mystery  primeval  — 
older  than  Christianity  or  any  one  religious  in- 
fluence—  in  which  the  play  is  wrapped,  as  in 
the  atmosphere  necessary  to  its  life,  is  indi- 

XXVI 


INTRODUCTION 

cated  by  D'Annunzio  himself  in  his  "  Triumph 
of  Death": 

"  Rites  of  religions  dead  and  forgotten  sur- 
vive there ;  incomprehensible  symbols  of  poten- 
cies long  fallen  into  decay  remain  intact  there ; 
habits  of  primitive  peoples  forever  passed  away 
persist  there,  handed  down  without  change 
from  generation  to  generation;  rich  customs, 
foreign  and  useless,  retained  there  are  the  wit- 
nesses to  the  nobility  and  beauty  of  an  anterior 
life.  ...  In  all  pomps  and  ceremonies,  work 
and  play,  in  births  and  love,  nuptials  and  fu- 
nerals, —  everywhere  present  and  visible,  there 
is  a  georgic  symbolism ;  everywhere  the  Titanic 
generating  Mother  Earth  is  represented  and 
reverenced  as  the  bosom  whence  sprang  the 
founts  of  all  good  and  all  happiness." 

When  Mila  is  left  in  the  cav%  in  the  second 
Act,  alone  with  the  ecstasy  and  -anguish  of  her 
love  for  Aligi,  and  while  she  kneels  before  the 
Christian  symbol  of  motherhood,  she  turns  also 
to  this  hoary  Earth,  the  mother  of  all  mother- 
hood, as  the  child  in  trouble  to  the  all-embrac- 
ing mother-heart. 

The  love  which  she  and  Aligi  feel  within 
them  is  profoundly  rooted  in  that  elemental 
mystery  to  which  it  has  newly  opened  their 

xxvii 


INTRODUCTION 

consciousness.  It  is  more  ancient  far  than  any 
of  the  ties  of  habit  and  family  to  which  Aligi 
has  been  the  embodiment  of  faithful  allegiance 
all  his  life  before.  Older  than  allegiance  to 
the  family  or  the  clan  is  the  allegiance  of  lover 
and  beloved,  as  the  individual  man  is  prior  to 
the  tribal  man. 

As  the  play  opens,  the  divine  trouble  of 
allegiance  to  this  more  fundamental  power  has 
come  upon  Aligi  dimly.  Forebodings  of  the 
woe  of  his  attempted  reconciliation  of  the  two 
allegiances  are  sapping  his  energy.  In  the 
depths  of  his  soul  is  divined  the  fatal  approach 
of  supreme  love,  the  predestined  child  of  this 
secret  power  of  the  older  time.  The  shadow 
of  this  approach  girds  him  about  in  slumber 
as  in  a  shield  by  the  side  of  the  bride  whose 
soul  is  no  mate  for  his  soul.  It  holds  him 
aloof  until  Mila  comes.  Then  it  plunges  his 
old  allegiance,  his  most  religiously  dutiful  sub- 
ordination to  the  life  of  kindred  and  family, 
into  vital  conflict  with  the  inward  sense  of  the 
mystical  power  claiming  a  higher  allegiance, 
a  deeper,  all-embracing  reverence. 

The  situation  is  a  dramatic  bodying  forth  of 
further  words  of  D'Annunzio  upon  the  mys- 
tery brooding  in  the  land  of  the  antique  blood: 

xxviii 


INTRODUCTION 

"  Mystery  intervenes  in  all  events,  envelops 
and  constrains  every  existence;  and  super- 
natural life  dominates,  overwhelms,  and  ab- 
sorbs ordinary  life." 

Put  into  action,  this  is  the  clash  of  the  or- 
dinary fealty  with  a  fealty  older,  more  per- 
sonal, and  through  the  art  and  the  sacrifice 
begotten  of  love,  more  rewarding  to  spiritual 
life.  The  hand  of  the  tribe  has  been  ever 
against  an  overlordship  of  this  spiritual  kind, 
knitting  together  the  clansman  and  the  alien, 
and  substituting  for  the  child  recruiting  the 
solidarity  of  the  clan,  the  Angel  of  Art  recruit- 
ing the  very  soul  of  the  clan.  To  burn  as  an 
Apostate  Angel  this  Angel  of  Art  along  with 
the  witch  whose  charm  has  awakened  in  the 
lover's  soul  the  capacity  to  show  it  forth  — 
this  is  the  usual  course  of  the  clan.  Only  the 
Ornellas,  the  youngest  and  littlest  of  its  gen- 
eration, are  as  prompt  to  see  and  to  save  as 
its  privileged  heads,  the  Lazaros,  are  to  dese- 
crate and  embrutalize. 

Like  Heinrich  in  Hauptmann's  "  Sunken 
Bell,"  Aligi  is  a  dreamer.  But  unlike  Hein- 
rich, he  is  no  waverer.  His  dream  is  true.  To 
the  divination  it  bestows  he  is  true.  As  long 
as  his  soul  and  his  senses  are  intact  to  repel 

xxix 


INTRODUCTION 

the  benumbing  influence  of  the  potion  he  dis- 
claims Mila's  sacrifice. 

All  larger  meanings  involved  in  the  action 
are  to  be  inferred  as  they  are  in  life.  Each 
may  behold  for  himself.  Yet  Ornella  stands 
behind  the  play,  as  the  angel  stood  behind 
Mila.  For  any,  if  any  there  be,  who  would 
question  the  bearing  of  its  conclusion,  Ornella 
is  the  rectification  of  any  possible  doubt  or 
mis  judgment.  Through  the  eyes  of  her  vision 
appears  the  transcendent  loving  of  Mila. 

No  other  works  of  D'Annunzio,  not  even 
the  beautiful  "  Francesca,"  reach  such  heights. 
They  have  artistry,  power,  concrete  truth  to 
life  in  common  with  '  The  Daughter  of 
Jorio  " ;  but  they  do  not  approach  it  in  that 
inner  truth  to  life  which  unveils  the  purity 
and  aspiration  of  the  power  of  supreme  love 
in  life  and  in  art.  That  inner  life  of  the  power 
of  love  hallows  this  tragedy.  Hence  the  poet's 
art  gains  an  unerring  potency  of  touch,  and 
it  makes  the  loving  of  Mila  worthy  of  a  younger 
brother  of  the  Dante  of  the  "  Vita  Nuova  " 
and  the  "  Paradiso." 

Inseparable  from  the  power  of  this  tragedy 
to  cause  the  deep  things  within  to  be  heard  - 
"  The  deep  things  within  that  come  from  afar  " 

XXX 


INTRODUCTION 

—  are  the  incomparably  beautiful  rhythms  in 
which  they  are  chanted. 

They  are  the  rhythms  belonging  to  the  land 
of  the  Abruzzi  and  to  "  many  years  ago." 
There,  says  the  poet: 

"  Mystery  and  rhythm,  these  two  essential 
elements  of  every  cult,  were  everywhere  scat- 
tered. Men  and  women  constantly  expressed 
their  souls  in  song,  accompanied  by  song  all 
their  labors  under  the  roof  or  under  the  sky, 
celebrated  by  song  life  and  death.  Over  cradles 
and  winding-sheets  undulated  melodies  slow 
and  prolonged,  very  ancient,  —  as  ancient,  per- 
haps, as  the  race  whose  profound  sadness  they 
revealed.  .  .  .  Fixed  in  unalterable  rhythm 
they  seemed  fragments  of  hymns  belonging 
to  immemorial  liturgies,  surviving  the  destruc- 
tion of  some  great  primordial  mythus." 

The  poet  seems  to  have  loosed  the  pent-up 
sources  of  these  immemorial  rhythms.  He  has 
dared  in  part  to  invent  a  free  dramatico-lyric 
verse,  in  part  to  recur  to  archaic  forms  of  verse 
of  like  freedom.  In  this  way  he  has  clothed 
every  motion  and  gesture,  every  quiver  of  the 
body  of  his  drama,  in  a  beauty  begotten  of 
"  the  antique  blood." 

Such  music,  sensitive  to  each  catch  of  the 


XXXI 


INTRODUCTION 

living  breath  of  emotion,  must  seek  a  form 
more  flexible  than  the  iambic  pentameters  of 
English  usage  or  the  hexameters  or  Alexan- 
drines of  French.  The  beauty  belonging  to 
these  in  their  perfection  has  yet  led  to  a  dull 
monotony  of  always-anticipated  stress  in  the 
perpetuity  of  their  dramatic  use  by  modern 
dramatists.  The  artifice  side  of  verse  has 
been  so  over-emphasized,  by  limitation  to  a 
form  shut  out  from  the  thrill  of  an  unexpected 
cadence,  that  audiences  instinctively  flee  the 
infliction  of  sitting  out  a  modern  poetic  drama, 
despite  the  general  superstition,  because  of  its 
past  glory,  that  it  ought  to  be  forever  and 
only  liked. 

Since  the  only  alternative  offered  by  con- 
ventional usage  is  bald  prose,  even  this  has 
been  gladly  accepted  in  preference,  and  the 
penalty  paid  of  a  totally  commonplace  effect, 
usually  as  bare  of  the  uplift  and  melody  of  art 
as  a  trolley  car. 

D'Annunzio  has  devised  a  better  way. 
Heeding  the  secret  of  the  manifold  effects, 
—  now  of  the  ancient  laudi  dramatiche  of  his 
own  Abruzzi,  now  of  the  austerely  simple  plain- 
song  of  the  mediaeval  hymn,  now  of  some 
strongly  four-stressed  Tuscan  lyric  of  the 

xxxii 


INTRODUCTION 

twelfth  century,  or  even  the  two-stressed  line 
of  the  rustic  charm,  —  he  has  varied  his  verse 
to  suit  every  phase  of  emotion.  He  has  used 
iambic  ascending  rhythms,  in  hendecasyllabic 
lines,  generally,  for  the  serener  utterances,  such 
as  Candia's  blessing  in  the  espousal  rites  of 
Act  I;  strongly  marked  trochaic  rhythms,  in 
octosyllabic  lines,  for  intense  lyrical  outpour- 
ings of  spirit,  such  as  Mila's  song  at  the  open- 
ing of  Act  II,  and  swiftly  descending  dactyllic 
rhythms,  giving  jets  of  voice  to  sharp  seizures 
of  feeling,  such  as  the  fierce  outcry  of  the 
Chorus  of  the  Kindred  in  Act  III  —  Tempia  e 
tempia,  i  denti  le  sgrani  —  "  Temple  to  temple 
and  shell  out  her  teeth."  Not  only,  moreover, 
by  the  frequent  employment  of  a  strong  initial 
syllable,  along  with  iambic  or  anapestic  verse, 
and  other  such  allowed  liberties,  but  also  by 
the  intercalation  of  extra  syllables  or  the  omis- 
sion of  others  within  the  normal  foot,  he  has 
slowed  or  raced  the  pace  of  the  line,  in  obedi- 
ence to  some  push  of  thought  or  beat  of  pur- 
pose. So  varied  is  the  effect  that  the  verse  is 
as  flexible  as  prose  speech.  Yet  the  impres- 
sion is  never  lawless,  for  the  verse  never  escapes 
the  ictus  of  a  pervading  inward  shapeliness. 
The  artistic  comeliness  is  felt  along  with  the 
xxxiii 


INTRODUCTION 

impetus  each  variation  pours  into  the  sway 
of  the  line. 

Internal  rhyme,  assonance,  and  thrice  re- 
peated double  rhymes  still  further  prolong  or 
break  up  the  normal  effects,  so  that  to  the 
fluency  of  the  wave  of  speech  is  added  some 
momentary  shimmering  of  its  surface,  like  the 
fleeting  touches  of  the  wind  of  the  spirit  other- 
wise viewless. 

Such  internal  rhymes,  repetitions,  and  as- 
sonances, for  example,  occur  in  the  dialogue 
of  Mila  and  Aligi  in  the  second  Act:  Pel 
monti  coglierai  le  genzianelle  Eper  le  spiagge 
le  stelle  marine.  -  - "  To  cull  on  the  hilltop  the 
blue  gentian  lonely,  On  the  sea-shore  only 
the  star-fish  flower."  Si  cammina  cammina 
lungo  il  mare.  —  "I  border  the  bordering 
stretches  of  sea-shore."  Or  such  double  rhymes 
appear  as  in  Femo  di  Nerfa's:  Prima  che  la 
mano  gli  taglino,  Prima  che  nel  sacco  lo  ser- 
rino,  Col  can  mastino  e  lo  gettino,  Al  fiume  in 
dove  fa  gorgo.  -  "  Before  his  right  hand  they 
shall  sever,  Before  in  the  leathern  sack  they 
sew  him  With  the  savage  mastiff  and  throw 
him  Where  the  deep  restless  waters  o'erflow 
him." 

The  tendency  of  English  verse  during  the 
xxxiv 


INTRODUCTION 

Elizabethan  renaissance  was  toward  a  musi- 
cal flexibility  akin  to  D'Annunzio's.  Shake- 
speare's verse,  especially  in  his  ripest  work, 
showed  the  same  tendency  before  it  was  regu- 
lated by  Pope,  who  cut  it  into  even  lengths 
of  ten  syllables,  with  every  even  one  stressed, 
as  nearly  as  he  could,  by  transposing,  elid- 
ing, cutting  off,  or  adding  —  a  regulation  still 
masking  as  well  as  marring  the  native  wood- 
notes  wild  in  all  our  modernized  texts. 

A  similar  flexibility  belonged  to  Coleridge's 
"  Christabel,"  wherein  he  recurred  to  the  elder 
fashion  of  marking  the  rhythm  sufficiently 
by  stress  to  carry  the  voice  as  he  willed  it  to 
go,  instead  of  the  dominant  fashion  of  met- 
ing it  into  uniformly  even  lengths  of  counted 
syllables. 

Each  way  should  have  its  own  uses  for  the 
modern  poet  according  to  the  impressional 
effect  he  desires.  The  elder  fashion  is  no  more 
lawless  than  the  one  which  has  come  to  be  so 
exclusively  followed  through  the  dominance  of 
French  influences  at  the  English  Court,  in  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  influences 
suiting  the  growing  formalism  of  the  English 
temperament.  Indeed  the  elder  fashion  re- 
quires a  more  expert  metrical  handling,  while 

xxxv 


INTRODUCTION 

the  other  is  more  open  to  mediocre  poetic 
ability. 

It  would  be  well  for  the  closer  hold  of 
poetic  art  on  life,  especially  for  dramatic  use, 
if  less  automatically  regulated  verse  should  be 
revived  and  developed  in  England,  above  all 
in  America,  —  such  flexible  verse  as  D'An- 
nunzio  has  revived  and  developed  in  "  The 
Daughter  of  Jorio." 

To  translate  such  verse  into  set  metres  of 
blank  verse  or  Alexandrines,  in  no  way  cor- 
responding to  its  peculiar  variability,  would 
be  like  prisoning  a  live  creature.  To  do  it 
violence  by  uniformly  substituting  strong  end- 
ings for  weak  endings;  to  reiterate  uniformly 
the  metre  arbitrarily  chosen  to  begin  with;  to 
exclude  all  grace  of  internal  rhyme  would  be 
like  binding  a  mobile  thing  from  any  flutter- 
ing. Surely  it  would  be  to  cage  the  bird 
whose  sensitive  wings  the  genius  of  D'An- 
nunzio  has  freed. 

It  has  fallen  to  my  especial  share  in  this 
joint  translation  to  give  to  it  a  verse  form. 
It  has  seemed  to  me  hopeless,  —  and  my  col- 
leagues are  agreed  with  me  in  this  view  —  to 
attempt  to  give  any  glimmering  impression  of 
the  rhythmic  beauty  essential  to  the  mystical 

xxxvi 


INTRODUCTION 

soul  of  this  tragedy,  save  by  seeking  to  re- 
produce for  English  ears,  by  similarly  free 
methods  in  freely  stressed  English  verse,  an 
audible  impression  corresponding  to  the  im- 
pression which  the  stresses  of  the  Italian  verse 
have  made  on  my  ear  as  they  were  spoken. 
Hence  the  desire  has  been  not  to  be  led  by 
the  eye,  nor  to  transliterate  analytically  the 
Italian  effects  in  some  recognized  forms  of 
imitative  prosody,  but  merely  to  listen  and 
echo  in  English  some  faint  synthetic  reflex  of 
the  flowing  music. 

CHARLOTTE  PORTER. 


XXXVll 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

LAZARO  Di  Roio,  Father  of  Aligi 

CANDIA  BELLA  LEONESSA,  Mother  of  Aligi 

ALIGI,  The  Shepherd- Artist 

SPLENDORE,  FAVETTA,  ORNELLA,  Aligi  s  Sisters 

VIENDA  Di  GIAVE,  Aligi  s  Bride 

MARIA  Di  GIAVE,  Mother  of  the  Bride 

TEODULA  Di  CINZIO,  LA  CINERELLA,  MONICA  DELLA  COGNA, 

ANNA  Di  BOVA,  FELAVIA,  LA  CATALANA,  MARIA  CORA  : 

The  Kindred 
MILA  Di  CODRA,  the  Daughter  of  Jorio  the  Sorcerer  dalle 

Fame 
FEMO  Di  NERFA 

T  T^  •     -C-  -iO    >^l    O 

JENNE  DELL    ETA 

IONA  Di  MIDIA 

THE  OLD  HERBWOMAN 

THE  SAINT  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN 

THE  TREASURE  DIVINER 

THE  DEVIL-POSSESSED  YOUTH 

A  SHEPHERD 

R  O  I  O    ft    I  0 
ANOTHER  SHEPHERD 

A     t> 

A  REAPER 
ANOTHER  REAPER 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS 

THE  CROWD  OF  PEOPLE 
THE  CHORUS  OF  THE  KINDRED 
THE  CHORUS  OF  REAPERS 
THE  CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

SCENE  :  The  Land  of  the  Abruzzi 

TIME  :  Many  years  ago.  (Placed  about  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury by  the  Painter  Michetti,  who  designed  the  scenes 
and  costumes  for  the  initial  production  in  Milan). 


THE 

DAUGHTER  OF  JORIO 

ACT  I.  —  SCENE  I. 

A  ROOM  on  the  ground  floor  of  a 
rustic  house.  The  large  entrance 
door  opens  on  a  large  sunlit  yard. 
Across  the  door  is  stretched,  to  prevent  entrance, 
a  scarlet  woollen  scarf,  held  in  place  at  each  end 
by  a  forked  hoe  and  a  distaff.  At  one  side 
of  the  door  jamb  is  a  waxen  cross  to  keep  off 
evil  spirits.  A  smaller  closed  door,  with  its 
architrave  adorned  with  boxwood  green,  is  on 
the  wall  at  the  right,  and  close  against  the  same 
wall  are  three  ancient  wooden  chests.  At  the 
left,  and  set  in  the  depth  of  the  wall,  is  a 
chimney  and  fire-place  with  a  prominent  hood ; 
and  a  little  at  one  side  a  small  door,  and  near 

this  an  ancient  loom.     In  the  room  are  to  be 
i  1 


THE    DAUGHTER 

seen  such  utensils  and  articles  of  furniture  as 
tables,  benches,  hasps,  a  swift,  and  hanks  of  flax 
and  wool  hanging  from  light  ropes  drawn  be- 
tween nails  or  hooks.  Also  to  be  seen  are  jugs, 
dishes,  plates,  bottles  and  flasks  of  various  sizes 
and  materials,  with  many  gourds,  dried  and 
emptied.  Also  an  ancient  bread  and  flour  chest, 
the  cover  of  it  having  a  carved  panel  represent- 
ing the  image  of  the  Madonna.  Beside  this 
the  water  basin  and  a  rude  old  table.  Sus- 
pended from  the  ceiling  by  ropes  is  a  wide, 
broad  board  laden  with  cheeses.  Two  windows, 
iron-grated  and  high  up  from  the  ground,  give 
light,  one  at  each  side  of  the  large  door,  and 
in  each  of  the  gratings  is  stuck  a  bunch  of  red 
buckwheat  to  ward  off  evil. 

SPLENDORE,  FAVETTA,  ORNELLA,  the  three 
young  sisters,  are  kneeling  each  in  front  of 
one  of  the  three  chests  containing  the  wedding 
dresses.  They  are  bending  over  them  and  pick- 
ing out  suitable  dresses  and  ornaments  for  the 
bride.  Their  gay,  fresh  tones  are  like  the 
chanting  of  morning  songs. 

2 


]  OF        JORIO 

SPLENDORE 

What's  your  will,  our  own  Vienda? 

FAVETTA 

What's  your  will,  our  dear  new  sister? 

SPLENDORE 

Will  you  choose  the  gown  of  woolen, 
Would  you  sooner  have  the  silken, 
Sprayed  with  flowrets  red  and  yellow? 

ORNELLA  [singing} 

Only  of  green  shall  be  my  arraying. 
Only  of  green  for  Santo  Giovanni,          \ ) 
For  mid  the  green  meadows  he  came  to  seek 

me, 
Oili,  Oili,  Oila! 

SPLENDORE 

Look  I     Here  is  the  bodice  of  wondrous  em- 
broidery, 

And  the  yoke  with  the  gleaming  thread  of 
silver, 

8 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

Petticoat  rich  of  a  dozen  breadths'  fulness, 
Necklace  strung  with  hundred-beaded  coral,  - 
All  these  given  you  by  your  new  mother. 

ORNELLA  [ringing] 

Only  of  green  be  or  gown  or  bridal  chamber! 
Oili,  oili,  oila! 

FAVETTA 

What 's  your  will,  our  own  Vienda? 

SPLENDORE 

What 's  your  will,  our  dear  new  sister? 

ORNELLA 

Pendant  earrings,  clinging  necklace, 
Blushing  ribbons,  cherry  red? 
Hear  the  ringing  bells  of  noonday, 
Hear  the  bells  ring  out  high  noon! 

SPLENDORE 

See  the  kindred  hither  coming, 

On  their  heads  the  hampers  bearing, 

4 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

Hampers  laden  with  wheat  all  golden, 
And  you  yet  not  dressed  and  ready  1 

ORNELIA 

Bounding,  rebounding, 
Sheep  pass,  the  hills  rounding. 
The  wolf,  through  valleys  winding, 
The  nut  he  seeks  is  finding,  — 
The  pistachio  nut  is  finding. 
See,  the  Bride  of  the  Morning! 
Matinal  as  the  field-mouse 
Going  forth  at  the  dawning, 
As  the  woodchuck  and  squirrel. 
Hear,  O  hear,  the  bells'  whirl! 

[All  these  words  are  spoken  very  swiftly, 
and  at  the  close  ORNKLLA  laughs  joyously  f  her 
two  sisters  joining  with  her.~\ 

THE  THREE  SISTERS 

Oh!   Aligi,  why  then  don't  you  come? 

SPLENDORE 

Oh !  in  velvet  then  must  you  dress  ? 

5 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

FAVETTA 

Seven  centuries  quite,  must  you  rest 
With  your  beautiful,  magical  Spouse? 

SPLENDORE 

O  your  father  stays  at  the  harvesting, 

c    f 

Brother  mine,  and  the  star  of  the  dawning 
In  his  sickle-blade  is  showing, — 
In  his  sickle,  no  rest  knowing. 

FAVETTA 

And  your  mother  has  flavored  the  wine-cup 
And  anise-seed  mixed  with  the  water, 
Sticking  cloves  in  the  roast  meat 
And  sweet  thyme  in  the  cheeses. 

SPLENDORE 

And  a  lamb  of  the  flock  we  have  slaughtered, 
Yea,  a  yearling,  but  fattened  one  season, 
With  head  markings  and  spottings  of  sable, 
For  the  Bride  and  the  Bridegroom. 

6 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

FAVETTA 

/ 

And    the    mantle,    long-sleeved,    and    cowl- 
hooded,  > 

For  Astorgio  we  chose  it  and  kept  it,  — 
For  the  long-lived  gray  man  of  the  mountain, 
So  our  fate  upon  that  he  foretell  us. 

OKNELLA 

And  to-morrow  will  be  San  Giovanni, 
Dear,  my  brother!  with  dawn,  San  Giovanni! 
Up  the  Plaia  hill  then  shall  I  hie  me, 
To  behold  once  again  the  head  severed  — 
In  the  sun's  disc,  the  holy  head  severed, 
On  the  platter  all  gleaming  and  golden, 
Where  again  the  blood  runs,  flows  and  babbles. 

FAVETTA 

Up,  Viendal  head  all  golden, 
Keeping  long  vigil;   O  golden  sweet  tresses! 
Now  they  harvest  in  the  grain-fields 
Wheat  as  golden  as  your  tresses. 

7 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

SPLENDORE 

Our  mother  was  saying :    "  Now  heed  me ! 
Three  olives  I  nurtured  here  with  me; 
Unto  these  now  a  plum  have  I  added. 
Ay!   three  daughters,  and,  also,  a  daughter." 

ORNELLA 

Come,  Vienda,  golden-plum  girl! 
Why  delay  you?     Aj-e  you  writing 
To  the  sun  a  fair  blue  letter 
That  to-night  it  know  no  setting? 

[She  laughs  and  the  other  sisters  join  in 
with  her.  From  the  small  door  enters  their 
mother,  CANDIA  BELLA  LEONESSA.] 

CANDIA  [playfully  chiding] 

Ah!   you  magpies,  sweet  cicales! 
Once  for  over- joy  of  singing 
One  was  burst  upon  the  poplar. 
Now  the  cock  's  no  longer  crowing 
To  awaken  tardy  sleepers. 
Only  sing  on  these  cicales,  — 

8 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

These  cicales  of  high  noonday. 
These  three  magpies  take  my  roof -tree  — 
Take  my  door's  wood  for  a  tree-branch. 
Still  the  new  child  does  not  heed  them. 
Oh!   Aligi,  Aligi,  dear  fellow! 

[The  door  opens.  The  beardless  bride- 
groom  appears.  He  greets  them  with  a  stave 
voice,  fixed  eyes,  and  in  an  almost  religious 
manner.] 

ALIGI 

All  praise  to  Jesus  and  to  Mary! 
You,  too,  my  mother,  who  this  mortal 
Christian  flesh  to  me  have  given, 
Be  you  blessed,  my  dear  mother! 
Blessed  be  ye,  also,  sisters, 
Blossoms  of  my  blood! 
For  you,  for  me,  I  cross  my  forehead, 
That  never  there  come  before  us  to  thwart  us 
The  enemy  subtle,  in  death,  in  life, 
In  heat  of  sun,  or  flame  of  fire, 
Or  poison,  or  any  enchantment, 

9 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

Or  sweat  unholy  the  forehead  moist'ning. 
Father,  and  Saviour,  and  Holy  Spirit! 

[The  sisters  cross  themselves  and  go  out 
by  the  small  door,  carrying  the  bridal  dresses. 
AJJGI  approaches  his  mother  as  if  in  a  dream.] 

CANDIA 

Flesh  of  my  flesh,  thus  touch  I  your  forehead 
With  bread,  with  this  fair  wheaten  loaf  of 

white  flour, 

Prepared  in  this  bowl  of  a  hundred  years  old, 
Born  long  before  thee,  born  long  before  me, 
Kneaded  long  on  the  board  of  a  hundred  years 


By  these  hands  that  have  tended  and  held  you. 
On  the  brow,  thus,  I  touch:   Be  it  sunny  and 

clear  ! 
I  touch  thus  the  breast:    Be  it  free  from  all 

sighing  1 

I  touch  this  shoulder,  and  that:  Be  it  strong! 
Let  them  bear  up  your  arms  for  long  labor! 
Let  her  rest  there  her  head  gray  or  golden! 
And  may  Christ  to  you  speak  and  you  heed  him! 

10 


SCENEI.1  OF        JORIO 

[With  the  loaf  she  makes  the  sign  of  the 
cross  above  her  son,  who  has  fallen  on  his  knees 
before  her.] 

ALIGI 

I  lay  down  and  meseemed  of  Jesus  I  dreamed. 
He  came  to  me  saying:   "  Be  not  fearful." 
San  Giovanni  said  to  me :    "  Rest  in  safety. 
Without  holy  candles  thou  shalt  not  die." 
Said  he :    "  Thou  shalt  not  die  the  death  ac- 
cursed." 

And  you,  you  have  cast  my  lot  in  life,  mother, 
Allotted  the  bride  you  have  chosen  for  me,  — 
YOUF  son,  and  here,  within  your  own  house, 

mother, 

You  have  brought  her  to  couple  with  me, 
That  she  slumber  with  me  on  my  pillow, 
That  she  eat  with  me  out  of  my  platter. 
Then  I  was  pasturing  flocks  on  the  mountain. 
Now  back  to  the  mountain  I  must  be  turning. 

{His  mother  touches  his  head  with  the  palm 
of  her  hand  as  if  to  chase  away  evil  thoughts.] 

11 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

CANDIA 

Rise  up,  my  son!    You  are  strangely  talking. 
All  your  words  are  now  changing  in  color, 
As   the   olive   tree   changes   pressed   by   the 
breezes. 

[He  rises,  as  if  in  a  daze.~\ 

ALIGI 

But  where  is  my  father?    Still  nowhere  I  see 
him. 

CANDIA 

Gone  to  the  harvesting,  out  with  the  reapers, 
The   good  grain  reaping,   by   grace  of  our 
Saviour. 

ALIGI 

I  reaped  once,  too,  by  his  body  shaded, 
Ere    I    was   signed    with    the   cross    on   my 

forehead, 
When  my  brow  scarcely  reached  up  to  his 

haunches. 

But  on  my  first  day  a  vein  here  I  severed,  — 
Here  where  the  scar  stays.    Then  with  leaves 

he  was  bruising 

12 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

The  while  he  stanched  the  red  blood  from 
flowing, 

"  Son  Aligi,"  said  he  unto  me,  "  Son  Aligi, 

Give  up  the  sickle  and  take  up  the  sheep- 
crook  : 

Be  you  a  shepherd  and  go  to  the  moun- 
tain." 

This  his  command  was  kept  in  obedience. 

CANDIA 

Son  of  mine,  what  is  this  pain  the  heart  of 

you  hurting? 

What  dream  like  an  incubus  over  you  hovers, 
That  these  your  words  are  like  a  wayfarer, 
Sitting  down  on  his  road  at  night's  coming, 
Who  is  halting  his  footsteps  for  knowing, 
Beyond  attaining  is  his  heart's  desiring, 
Past  his  ears'  hearing  the  Ave  Maria. 

ALIGI 

Now  to  the  mountain  must  I  be  returning. 
Mother,  where  is  my  stout  shepherd's  sheep- 
hook 

13 


THE    DAUGHTER 

Used  to  the  pasture  paths,  daily  or  nightly? 
Let  me  have  that,  so  the  kindred  arriving, 
May  see  thereupon  all  the  carving  I  Ve  carved. 

[His  mother  takes  the  shepherd's  crook 
from  the  corner  of  the  fireplace.'] 

CANDIA 

Lo !  here  it  is,  son  of  mine,  take  it :  your  sisters 
Have  hung  it  with  garlands  for  Santo  Giovanni, 
With  pinks  red  and  fragrant  festooned  it. 

ALJGI  [pointing  out  the  carving  on  iC\ 

And  I  have  them  here  on  the  bloodwood  all 

with  me, 

As  if  by  the  hand  I  were  leading  my  sisters. 
So,  along  they  go  with  me  threading  green 

pathways, 
Guarding  them,  mother,  —  these  three  virgin 

damsels,  — 

See!  three  bright  angels  here  over  them  hover, 
And  three  starry  comets,  and  three  meek  doves 

also. 

14 


SCENEl.]  OF         JORIO 

And  a  flower  for  each  one  I  have  carved  here, 
The  growing  half -moon  and  the  sun  I  have 

carved  here; 
This  is  the  priestly  stole;   and  this  is  the  cup 

sacramental; 

And  this  is  the  belfry  of  San  Biagio. 
And  this  is  the  river,  and  this  my  own  cabin; 

[with  mystery,  as  if  with  second  sight] 

(But  who,  who  is  this  one  who  stands  in  my 
doorway? 

CANDIA 

Aligi,  why  is  it  you  set  me  to  weeping! 

ALIGI 

And  see  at  the  end  here  that  in  the  ground 
enters, 

Here  are  the  sheep,  and  here  also  their  shep- 
herd, 

And  here  is  the  mountain  where  I  must  be 
going, 

Though  you  weep,  though  I  weep,  my  mother  I 

15 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

[He  leans  on  the  crook  with  both  hands, 
resting  his  head  upon  them,  lost  in  his 
thoughts.  ] 

CANDIA 

But  where  then  is  Ho£e?     What  have  you 
made  of  her,  son? 

ALIGI 

Her  face  has  shone  on  me  seldom; 
Carve  her,  I  could  not,  sooth!    mother. 

[From  a  distance  a  savage  clamor  rises.~\ 
Mother,  who  shouts  out  so  loud  there? 

CANDIA 

The  harvesters  heated  and  frenzied, 
From  the  craze  of  their  passions  defend  them, 
From  sins  of  their  blood  San  Giovanni  restrain 
them! 

ALIGI 

Ah !    Who  then  has  drawn  but  that  scarf  there, 
Athwart  the  wide  door  of  our  dwelling, 

16 


SCENE!.]  OF    JORIO 

Leaning  on  it  the  forked  hoe  and  distaff, 

That  naught  enter  in  that  is  evil? 

Ah!    Lay  there  the  ploughshare,  the  wain, 

and  the  oxen, 

Pile  stones  there  against  both  the  door-posts, 
With  slaked  lime  from  all  of  the  lime-kilns, 
The  bowlder  with  footprints  of  Samson, 
And  Maella  Hill  with  its  snow-drifts! 

CANDIA 

What  is  coming  to  birth  in  your  heart,  son 

of  mine? 

Did  not  Christ  say  to  you,  "  Be  not  fear- 
ful"? 

Are  you  awake?    Heed  the  waxen  cross  there, 
That  was  blessed  on  the  Day  of  Ascension, 
The     door-hinges,     too,     with     holy     water 

sprinkled, 

No  evil  spirit  can  enter  our  doorway, 
Your  sisters  have  drawn  the  scarlet  scarf  'cross 

it,- 

The  scarlet  scarf  you  won  in  the  field-match 
Long  before  you  ever  became  a  shepherd, 
ft  17 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

In  the  match  that  you  ran  for  the  straightest 

furrow,  — 
(You  still  remember  it,  son  of  mine?)     Thus 

have  they  stretched  it 
So  that  the  kindred  who  must  pass  through 

there 

Offer  what  gifts  they  choose  when  they  enter. 
Why   do   you   ask,  for   you   well  know   our 
custom? 

ALIGI 

Mother!   mother!   I   have   slept   years   seven 

hundred  — 

Years  seven  hundred!    I  come  from  afar  off. 
I  remember  no  longer  the  days  of  my  cradle. 

CANDIA 

What  ails  you,  son?    Like  one  in  a  dazement 

you  answer. 
Black  wine  was  it  your  bride  poured  out  for 

you? 
And  perhaps  you  drank  it  while  yet  you  were 

fasting, 

18 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

So  that  your  mind  is  far  off  on  a  journey? 
O   Mary,   blest  Virgin!    do  thou  grant  me 
blessing  I 

The  voice  of  OENELLA  singing  the  nuptial 
song. 

Only  of  green  shall  be  my  arraying, 
Only  of  green  for  Santo  Giovanni. 
Oili,  oili,  oila! 

[The  Bride  appears  dressed  in  green  and 
is  brought  forward  joyously  by  the  sisters.] 

SPLENDORE 

Lo  I  the  bride  comes  whom  we  have  apparelled 
With  all  the  joy  of  the  spring-time  season. 

FAVETTA 

Of  gold  and  silver  the  yoke  is  fashioned, 
But  all  the  rest  like  the  quiet  verdure. 

ORNELLA 

You,  mother,  take  her!  in  your  arms  take  her! 
O  dear  my  mother,  take  and  console  her! 

19 


THE     DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

SPLENDORE 

Shedding    tears    at    the    bedside    we    fpund 

her, 

Thus  lamenting  for  thinking  so  sorely 
Of  the  gray  head  at  home  left  so  lonely. 

ORNELLA 

Of  the  jar  full  of  pinks  in  the  window 
Her  dear  face  not  again  shall  lean  over. 
You,  mother,  take  her!  in  your  arms  take  her! 

CANDIA 

Daughter,  daughter,  with  this  loaf  in  blessing 

I  have  touched  my  own  son.    Lo!   now  I  di- 
vide it, 

And  over  your  fair  shining  head  I  now  break 
it. 

May  our  house  have  increase  of  abundance! 

Be  thou  unto  the  dough  as  good  leaven 

That  may  swell  it  out  over  the  bread-board! 

Bring  unto  me  peace  and  ah!    do  not  bring 
strife  to  me! 

20 


SCENEl.]  OF         JORIO 

THE  THREE  SISTERS 

So  be  it!    We  kiss  the  earth,  mother! 

[They  kiss  the  ground  by  leaning  over  and 
touching  it  with  forefinger  and  middle  finger, 
and  then  touching  their  lips.  ALIGI  is  kneeling 
on  one  side  as  if  in  deep  prayer.] 

CANDIA 

O  now  daughter  mine  to  my  house  be 
As  the  spindle  is  unto  the  distaff; 
As  unto  the  skein  is  the  spindle; 
And  as  unto  the  loom  is  the  shuttle! 

THE  THREE  SISTERS 

So  be  it!    We  kiss  the  earth,  mother! 

CANDIA 

O  Vienda!    new  daughter,  child  blessed! 

Lo!   midst  home  and  pure  food  thus  I  place 
you. 

Lo!    The  walls  of  this  house  —  the  four  cor- 
ners! 

21 


God  willing,  the  sun  rises  there;  sinks  there, 
God  willing! 

This  is  the  northward,  this  is  the  southward. 

The  ridgepole  this,  the  eaves  with  nests 
hanging, 

And  the  chain  and  the  crane  with  the  and- 
irons; 

There  the  mortar  the  white  salt  is  crushed  in, 

And  there,  too,  the  crock  it  is  kept  in. 

O  new  daughter!   I  call  you  to  witness 

How  midst  home  things  and  pure  food  I 
place  you 

Both  for  this  life  and  life  everlasting. 

THE  THREE  SISTERS 

So  be  it!    We  kiss  the  earth,  mother! 

[VIENDA  rests  her  head,  weeping,  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  mother.  CANDIA  embraces  her, 
still  holding  a  half -loaf  in  each  hand.  The  cry 
of  the  reapers  is  heard  nearer.  ALIGI  rises  like 
one  suddenly  wakened  and  goes  toward  the 
door.  The  sisters  follow  him.'] 

22 


SCENBI.J  OF    JORIO 

FAVETTA 

Now  by  the  great  heat  are  the  reapers  all 

maddened, 
They  are  barking  and  snapping  like  dogs  at 

each   passer. 

SPLENDORE 

Now  the  last  of  the  rows  they  are  reaching, 
With  the  red  wine  they  never  mix  water* 

ORNELLA 

At  the  end  of  each  row,  they  are  drinking, 
In  the  shade  of  the  stack  the  jug  lying. 

FAVETTA 

Lord  of  heaven!    The  heat  is  infernal, 
At  her  tail  bites  the  old  gammer  serpent. 

ORNELLA  [chanting] 

Oh,  for  mercy!    Wheat  and  wheat,  and  stub- 
ble, stubble, 

First  in  sun  burn  the  sickles,  then  wounds  they 
trouble. 

23 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

SPLENDORE 

Oh  mercy  for  father!   for  his  arms  tired, 
And  all  his  veins  with  labor  swollen. 

ORNELLA 

O  Aligil  you  saddest  of  grooms 

Keeping  yet  in  your  nostrils  sleep's  fumes! 

FAVETTA 

O,  you  know  very  well  the  rhyme  turned  about. 
You  have  placed  the  good  loaf  in  the  jug, 
You  have  poured  the  red  wine  in  the  sack. 

SPLENDORE 

Lo!  now  the  kindred!    Lo!  now  the  women! 

they  are  coming. 

Up,  up!   Vienda!    and  cease  your  weeping. 
Mother!    How  now!     They  are  coming.  Set 

her  free  then. 

Up!    Golden  tresses,  cease  your  weeping! 
You  have  wept  too  long.    Your  fine  eyes  are 

reddened! 

24 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

[VrENDA  dries  her  tears  on  "her  apron  and 
taking  the  apron  up  by  the  two  corners  receives 
in  it  the  two  pieces  of  the  loaf  from  the 
mother.] 

CANDIA 

In  blood  and  in  milk  return  it  to  me! 
Goldenhair,  come  now,  sit  on  the  settle. 
Oh !  Aligi,  you  too,  come  sit  here !  and  wake  up ! 
One  of  you  here,  one  of  you  there,  thus  stay  ye, 
Children,  thus,  at  each  side  of  the  door. 
Be  it  wide  open  for  all  to  see  in  there 
The  wide  bed  so  wide  that  in  order  to  fill  it  — 
The  mattress  to  fill  —  I  used  up  the  straw- 
stack. 

Ay!   the  whole  of  the  stack  to  the  bare  pole, 
With  the  crock  sticking  up  on  the  tiptop! 

[CANDIA  and  SPLENDORE  place  a  small 
bench  each  side  of  the  door,  where  the  couple 
sit  composed  and  silent,  looking  at  each  other. 
ORNELLA  and  FAVETTA  looking  out  toward 
the  road  at  the  large  door.  The  yard  is  in  daz- 
zling sunlight.] 

25 


THE    DAUGHTER        [AcrL 

FAVETTA 

See!     They  are  coming  up  the  road  slowly 
In  single  file,  all:    Teodula  di  Cinzio 
And  Cinerella,  Monica,  Felavia, 
And  Catalana  delle  Tre  Bisacce, 
Anna  di  Bova,  Maria  Cora  .  .  .  but  who  is 
the  last  one? 

CANDIA 

Come  on  then,  Splendore,  do  help  me  spread 

out  now 

The  bedspread  I  wove  of  silk  doubled, 
Woven  for  you,  Vienda,  dear  green  bud, 
As  green  as  the  grass  of  the  meadow, 
The  sweet  grass,  early  bee,  where  you  hover. 

ORNELLA 

Who  is  last?    Can  you  tell  us,  Vienda? 
Oh!    I  see  yellow  grain  in  the  hampers, 
And  it  glitters  like  gold.     Who  can  she  be? 
Gray  at  the  temple,  beneath  the  white  linen, 
Gray  as  the  feathery  bryony  branches. 

26 


SCENE!.]  OF         JORIO 

FAVETTA 

Your  mommy!  dear  child,  is  she  your  mommy? 

[VIENDA  rises  suddenly  as  if  to  rush  to  her 
mother.  In  so  doing  she  lets  the  bread  fall 
from  her  apron.  She  stops,  shocked.  ALIGI 
rises  and  stands  so  as  to  prevent  the  mother 
from  seeing. ~\ 

ORNELLA  [greatly  concerned,  in  a  frightened  voice] 

O  Lord  save  us!    Pick  it  up  again. 
Pick  it  up,  kiss  it,  ere  mamma  see  it. 

[VIENDA.,  terrified  and  overwhelmed  by 
frightful  superstition,  is  stricken  immovable, 
rigid,  staring  at  the  two  half -loaves  with  glassy 
eyes.~\ 

FAVETTA 

Pick  it  up,  kiss  it,  sad  is  the  angel. 
Make  a  vow  silently,  promise  greatly, 
Call  on  San  Sisto,  lest  Death  should  appear. 

[From  within  are  heard  the  blows  given 
with  the  hand  on  mattress  and  pillows  and  the 

27 


THE    DAUGHTER        Ucri. 

wind  carries   to  the  ear  the  clamor  of  the 
reapers.] 

ORNELLA 

San  Sisto!    San  Sisto! 

Oh!  hear  ye,  and  list,  oh! 

Black  death,  evil  sprite, 

By  day,  by  night, 

Chase  from  our  walls! 

Drive  from  our  souls! 

Oh!    crumble  and  tear 

The  evil  eye's  snare, 

As  the  sign  of  the  cross  I  make! 

[While  murmuring  the  conjuring  words 
she  rapidly  gathers  up  the  two  half-loaves, 
pressing  each  to  VIENDA'S  lips,  kissing  them 
herself,  and  then  placing  each  in  the  apron, 
making  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  them.  She 
then  leads  the  bridal  couple  to  their  benches,  as 
the  first  of  the  women  kindred  appears  at  the 
door  with  the  offerings,  stopping  in  front  of 
the  scarlet  scarf.  The  women  each  carry  on  the 
head  a  hamper  of  wheat  adorned  with  flowing 


SCENEl.]  OF         JORIO 

ribbons  of  various  colors.  On  each  basket  rests 
a  loaf  of  bread,,  and  on  top  of  each  loaf  a  wild 
flower.  ORNELLA  and  FAVETTA  take  each  one 
end  of  the  scarf  while  still  leaving  hoe  and 
distaff  in  place  against  the  wall,  but  so  posed 
as  to  bar  entrance. ] 

FIRST  WOMAN,  TEODTJLA  DI  CINZIO 

Ohe!    Who  watches  the  bridges? 

FAVETTA  and  ORNELLA  [in  unison] 

Love  open-eyed  and  Love  blind. 

TEODULA 

To  cross  over  there  I  desire. 

FAVETTA 

To  desire  is  not  to  acquire. 

TEODULA 

I  clambered  the  mountain  ridges, 

Now  down  through  the  valley  I  '11  wind. 


THE    DAUGHTER        UcrL 

ORNELLA 

The  torrent  has  taken  the  bridges, 
Too  swift  runs  the  river,  you  '11  find. 

TEODULA 

Set  me  over  in  your  boat. 

FAVETTA 

She  leaks  too  fast  to  keep  afloat. 

TEODULA 

I  '11  calk  her  with  tow  and  resin. 

ORNELLA 

Leaks  full  seven  split  and  stove  her. 

TEODULA 

Then  I  '11  give  you  pieces  seven. 
On  your  shoulder  bear  me  over. 

FAVETTA 

Oh,  no!    Help  of  mine  you  must  lack. 
The  wild  water  fills  me  with  fright. 

30 


]  OF        JORIO 

TEODULA 

Lend  me  a  lift  on  your  back. 

I  '11  give  you  this  silver  piece  bright. 

ORNELLA 

Too  little!    Your  eight  bits,  indeed, 
Would  not  keep  my  ribbons  new. 

TEODULA 

Tuck  up  your  skirt.     Plunge  in  bare-kneed. 
A  ducat  of  gold  I  '11  give  to  you. 

[The  first  woman,  TEODULA,,  gives  OR- 
NELLA a  piece  of  money.  She  receives  it  in  her 
left  hand,  while  the  other  women  come  closer 
to  the  door.  The  bridal  pair  remain  seated  and 
silent.  CANDIA  and  SPLENDORE  enter  from  the 
small  door.] 

ORNELLA  and  FAVETTA  [in  unison] 

Pass  on  then,  O  you  fair  Lady! 
And  all  these  in  your  company! 

31 


THE    DAUGHTER        UcrL 

[OENELLA  puts  the  money  in  her  bosom 
and  takes  away  the  distaff,  FAVETTA,  the  hoe. 
They  then  leave  both  leaning  against  the  wall. 
ORNELLA,  with  a  quick  movement ,  withdraws 
the  scarf,  making  it  wave  like  a  slender  pen- 
nant. The  women  then  enter  one  by  one,  in 
line,  still  holding  their  baskets  balanced  on 
their  heads. ,] 

TEODULA 

Peace  be  with  you,  Candia  della  Leonessa! 
And  peace,  too,  with  you,  son  of  Lazaro  di 

Roio! 
And  peace  to  the  bride  whom  Christ  has  given ! 

[She  places  her  basket  at  the  bride's  feet 
and,  taking  out  of  it  a  handful  of  wheat,  she 
scatters  it  over  VIENDA'S  head.  She  then  takes 
another  handful  and  scatters  it  over  AXJGI'S.] 

This  is  the  peace  that  is  sent  you  from  Heaven: 
That  on  the  same  pillow  your  hair  may  whiten, 
On  the  same  pillow  to  old  age  ending. 
Nor  sin  nor  vengeance  be  between  you, 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

Falsehood  nor  wrath,  but  love,  love  only, 
Daily,  till  time  for  the  long,  long  journey. 

[The  next  woman  repeats  the  same  cere- 
mony and  action,  the  others  meanwhile  remain- 
ing in  line  awaiting  their  turn,  with  the  hampers 
on  their  heads.  The  last  one,  the  mother  of  the 
bride,  remains  motionless  near  the  threshold, 
and  dries  her  face  of  tears  and  perspiration. 
The  noise  of  the  riotous  reapers  increases  and 
seems  to  come  nearer.  Besides  this  noise,  from 
time  to  time,  in  pauses,  now  and  again  the  ring- 
ing of  bells  is  heard.~\ 


, 

CINERELLA 

For  this  is  peace  and  this  is  plenty. 

[Suddenly  a  woman's  cry  is  heard  outside, 
coming  from  the  yard.~] 

THE  VOICE  OF  THE  UNKNOWN  WOMAN 

Help!  Help!   For  Jesus'  sake,  our  Saviour! 
People  of  God,  O  people  of  God,  save  ye  me  ! 
3  33 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL/« 

/ 

[Running,  panting  from  fright  and  exer- 
tion, covered  with  dust  and  briars,  like  a  hart 
run  down  by  a  pack  of  hunting  dogs,  a  woman 
enters.  Her  face  is  covered  by  a  mantle.  She 
looks  about  bewildered,  and  withdraws  to  the 
corner  near  the  fireplace,  opposite  to  the  bridal 
pair.] 

THE  UNKNOWN  WOMAN 

People  of  God!    O  save  ye  me! 
The  door  there!    O  shut  tight  the  door  there, 
Put  ye  up  all  the  bars !     Securely.  — 
They  are  many,  and  all  have  their  sickles. 
They    are    crazed,  —  crazed    with    heat    and 

strong  drinking. 

They  are  brutal  with  lust  and  with  cursing. 
Me  would  they  hunt,  —  they  would  seize  me ; 
They  would  hunt  me,  they  would  seize  me,  — 

me,  — 

The  creature  of  Christ,  ay,  me,  - 
The  unhappy  one,  doing  no  evil! 
Passing  I  was  —  alone  —  by  the  roadside.  — 
They  saw  me.  —  They  cried.  —  They  insulted, 

84 


]  OF    JORIO 

They  hurled  sods  and  stones.  —  They  chased 
me.  — 

Ay!    like  unto  hounds  that  are  hungry, 

They  would  seize  me  and  tear  me  and  torture. 

They  are  following  me,  O  most  wretched! 

They  are  hunting  me  down,  people  of  God! 

Help  ye!    Save  me!    The  door,  O  shut  it  to! 

The  door!  --  They  are  maddened  —  will  enter! 

They  will  take  me  from  here,  —  from  your 
hearthstone  — 

(The  deed  even  God  cannot  pardon)!  — 

From  your  hearthstone  that  blest  is  and  sacred 

(And   aught   else   but   that   deed   God  par- 
dons) — 

And  my  soul  is  baptized,  —  I  am  Christian  — 

Oh!  help!     O  for  San  Giovanni's  sake,  help 
me! 

For  Mary's  sake,  her  of  the  seven  dolors! 

For  the  sake  of  my  soul.  —  For  your  own 
soul! 
[She  stays  by  the  hearth,  all  the  women 

gathering  at  the  side  opposite  her.     VIENDA 

close  to  her  mother  and  godmother.    ALIGI 

W 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

stands  outside  the  circle  unmoved,  leaning  on 
his  crook.  Suddenly  ORNELLA  rushes  to  the 
door,  closes  it,  and  bars  it.  A  somewhat  in- 
imical murmur  arises  from  the  circle  of 
women.'} 

Ah !  tell  me  your  name,  —  how  they  call 
you, — 

Your  name,  that  wherever  I  wander, 

Over  mountains,  in  valleys  I  bless  it, 

You,  who  in  pity  are  first  here, 

Though  in  years  yours  are  least  in  the  count- 
ing! 

[Overcome  she  lets  herself  drop  on  the 
hearth,  bowed  over  upon  herself  with  her  head 
resting  on  her  knees.  The  women  are  huddled 
together  like  frightened  sheep.  ORNELLA 
steps  forward  toward  the  stranger.] 

ANNA 

Who  is  this  woman?    Holy  Virgin! 

MARIA 

And  is  this  the  right  way  to  enter 
The  dwelling  of  God-fearing  people? 

36 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

MONICA 

And  Candia,  you!    What  say  you? 

LA  CINERELLA 

Will  you  let  the  door  stay  bolted? 

ANNA 

Is  the  last  to  be  born  of  your  daughters, 
The  first  to  command  in  your  household? 

LA  CATALANA 

She  will  bring  down  upon  you  bad  fortune, 
The  wandering  she-dog,  for  certain! 

FELAVIA 

Did  you  mark  how  she  entered  that  instant 
While  yet  Cinerella  was  pouring 
On  Vienda  her  handful  of  wheat  flour 
Ere  Aligi  had  got  his  share  fully? 

[ORNELLA  goes  a  step  nearer  the  wretched 
fugitive.    FAVETTA  leaves  the  circle  and  joins 

37 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACT  i. 

MONICA 

How  now!    Are  we,  then,  to  remain  here, 
With  our  baskets  still  on  our  heads  loaded? 

MARIA 

Sure  it  would  be  a  terrible  omen 

To  put  down  on  the  ground  here  our  baskets 

Before  giving  our  offerings  to  them. 

MARIA  DI  GIAVE 

My  daughter,  may  Saint  Luke  defend  you! 
Saint  Mark  and  Saint  Matthew  attend  you! 
Grope  for  your  scapulary  round  your  neck 

hanging, 
Hold  it  closely  and  offer  your  prayer. 

[SPLENDORE,  too,  comes  forward  and  joins 
the  sisters.  The  three  girls  stand  before  the 
fugitive,  who  is  still  prostratef  panting  and 
trembling  with  fear.~\ 

ORNELLA 

You  are  over  sore-pressed,  sister, 

38 


OF        JORIO 


And  dusty  and  tired,  you  tremble. 
Weep  no  more,  since  now  you  are  safe  here. 
You  are  thirsty.    Your  drink  is  your  tears. 
Will  you  drink  of  our  water  and  wine?    Your 
face  bathe? 

[She  takes  a  small  bowl,  draws  water  from 
the  earthen  receptacle  and  pours  wine  into  it.] 

FAVETTA 

Are  you  of  the  valleys  or  elsewhere? 
Do  you  come  from  afar?    And  whither 
Do  you  now  bend  your  steps,  O  woman! 
All  desolate  thus  by  the  roadside! 

SPLENDORE 

Some  malady  ails  you,  unlucky  one? 
A  vow  then  of  penitence  made  you? 
To  the  Incoronata  were  travelling? 
May  the  Virgin  answer  your  prayers! 

[The  fugitive  lifts  her  head  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously, with  her  face  still  hidden  in  the 
mantle.  ~\ 

39 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

ORNELLA  [offering  the  bowl] 

Will  you  drink,  now,  daughter  of  Jesus? 

[From  outside  a  noise  is  heard  as  of  bare 
feet  shuffling  in  the  yard  and  voices  murmur- 
ing. The  stranger,  again  stricken  with  fear, 
does  not  drink  from  the  proffered  bowl  but 
places  it  on  the  hearth  and  retires  trembling  to 
the  further  corner  of  the  chimney. ,] 

THE  UNKNOWN  ONE 

They   are   here,   oh,   they   come!     They   are 

seeking 

For  me!    They  will  seize  me  and  take  me. 
For  mercy's  sake,  answer  not,  speak  not. 
They  will  go  if  they  think  the  house  empty, 
And  do  nothing  evil;   hut  if  you 
Are  heard,  if  you  speak  or  you  answer 
They  will  certainly  know  I  have  entered. 
They  will  open  the  door,  force  it  open. 
With  the  heat  and  the  wine  they  are  frenzied, 
Mad  dogs!    and  here  is  but  one  man, 
And  many  are  they  and  all  have  their  sickles, 

40 


SCENEI.)  OF        JORIO 

Their  scythes.  —  Oh!    for  dear  pity's  sake, 
For  the  sake  of  these  innocent  maidens, 
For  your  sake,   dear  daughter  of  kindness! 
You,  women  holy! 

THE  BAND  OF  REAPERS  [in  chorus  outside  at  the  door] 

The  dwelling  of  Lazaro!     Surely 
Into  this  house  entered  the  woman. 

—  They  have  closed  the  door,  they  have  barred 
it! 

—  Look  out  for  her  there  in  the  stubble. 

—  Search  well  in  the  hay  there,  Gonzelvo. 

—  Hah!    Hah!     In  the  dwelling  of  Lazaro, 
Right  into  the  maw  of  the  wolf.    Hah!  Hah! 

—  O!   Candia  della  Leonessa! 

Ho!  all  of  you  there!    Are  you  dead? 

[They  knock  at  the  door.~\ 
Oh!   Candia  della  Leonessa! 
Do  you  offer  a  shelter  to  harlots? 

—  Do  you  find  that  you  need  such  temptation 
To  still  the  fain  flesh  of  your  husband? 

—  If  the  woman  be  there,  I  say,  open ! 
Open  the  door,  good  folks,  give  her  to  us 

41 


THE    DAUGHTER        [AcrL 

And  on  a  soft  bed  we  will  lay  her. 

—  Bring  her  out  to  us !    Bring  her  out  to  us, 

For  we  only  want  to  know  her  better. 

To  the  hay-cock,  the  hay-cock,  the  hay-cock  I 

[They  knock  and  clamor.     ALIGI  moves 
toward  the  door.} 

THE  UNKNOWN  ONE  [whitpering  imploringly] 

Young  man,  O  young  man,  pray  have  mercy! 
O  have  mercy!    Do  not  open! 
Not  for  my  sake,  not  mine,  but  for  others, 
Since  they  will  not  seize  now  on  me  only, 
Since  imbruted  are  they.    You  must  hear  it !  — 
In  their  voices?  —  How  now  the  fiend  holds 

them? 

The  bestial  mad  fiend  of  high  noonday, 
The  sweltering  dog-days'  infection. 
If  they  gain  entry  here,  what  can  you  do? 

[The  greatest  excitement  prevails  among 
the  women,  but  they  restrain  themselves.'} 

LA  CATALANA 

Ye  see  now  to  what  shame  we  all  are  submitted, 

42 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

We  women  of  peace  here,  for  this  woman, 
She  who  dares  not  show  her  face  to  us! 

ANNA 

Open,  Aligi,  open  the  door  there, 

But  wide  enough  to  let  her  pass  out. 

Grip  hold  of  her  and  toss  her  out  there, 

Then  close  and  bar  the  entrance,  giving  praises 

To  Lord  Jesus  our  salvation. 

And  perdition  overtake  all  wretches! 

[The  shepherd  turns  toward  the  woman, 
hesitating.  ORNELLA,  stepping  forward,  stops 
his  way;  making  a  sign  of  silence,  she  goes 
to  the  door.'} 

ORNELLA 

Who  is  there?    Who  knocks  at  the  door  there? 

VOICES  OF  THE  REAPERS  [outside,  aU  confusedly] 

—  Silence    there!      Hush    up!      Hush — sh! 

Hush — sh! 

—  There  is  some  one  within  who  is  speaking, 

—  O  Candia  della  Leonessa, 

43 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

Is  it  you  who  are  speaking?    Open!    Open! 

-We  are  the  reapers  here  of  Norca, 
All  the  company  are  we  of  Cataldo. 

ORNELLA 

I  am  not  Candia.    For  Candia  is  busied  now. 
Abroad  is  she  since  early  morning. 

A  VOICE 
And  you?    Say  who  are  you  then? 

ORNELLA 

I  belong  to  Lazaro,  Ornella, 

My  father  is  Lazaro  di  Roio. 

But  ye,  say  ye,  why  ye  have  come  here? 

A  VOICE 
Open,  we  but  want  to  look  inside  there. 

ORNELLA 

Open,  that  I  cannot.     For  my  mother 
Locked  me  in  here  with  her  kindred 
Going  out,  for  we  are  marrying. 

44 


'SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

The  betrothal  we  are  having  of  my  brother, 
Aligi,  the  shepherd,  who  is  taking 
To  wife  here,  Vienda  di  Giave. 

A  VOICE 

Did  you  then  not  let  in  a  woman, 

But  a  short  while  ago,  a  woman  frightened? 

ORNELLA 

A  woman?     Then  in  peace  go  away. 
Seek  ye  elsewhere  to  find  her. 
O  reapers  of  Norca !    I  return  to  my  loom  here, 
For  each  cast  that  is  lost  by  my  shuttle 
Will  be  lost  and  can  never  be  gathered. 
God,  be  with  you  to  keep  you  from  evil, 
O  ye  reapers  of  Norca!    May  he  give  you 
Strength  for  your  work  in  the  grain  fields 
Till  by  evening  you  reach  the  end  of  your  labor, 
And  I,  also,  poor  woman,  the  ending 
Of  the  breadth  of  this  cloth  I  am  weaving. 

[Suddenly  at  the  side  window  two  muscular 
hands  seize  the  iron  bars  and  a  brutal  face  peers 
in.~\ 

45 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

THE  REAPER  [shouting  in  a  laud  voice] 

Ho!   Captain!  the  woman  is  in  there! 

She  's  inside !  She  's  inside !     The  youngster 

Was  fooling  us  here,  yes,  the  youngster! 

The  woman  is  in  there!     See,  inside  there, 

In  the  corner.     I  see  her,  I  see  her! 

And  there  too  is  the  bride  and  the  bridegroom, 

And   the   kindred   who   brought   them   their 

presents. 

This  is  the  feast  of  the  grain-pouring  spousal. 
Ah,  ho!   Captain!    A  fine  lot  of  girls  there! 

CHORUS  OF  REAPERS  [outside} 

—  If  the  woman's  within,  we  say,  open! 
For  you  it  is  shame  to  protect  her. 

—  Send  her  out  here!    Send  her  out  here! 
And  we  will  give  her  some  honey. 

—  Ho!   open  there,  open,  you,  and  give  her 
to  us. 

—  To  the  hay-cock  with  her,  to  the  hay-cock. 

[They  clamor  and  shout.    The  women  in- 
side are  all  confused  and  agitated.    The  un- 

46 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

known  one  keeps  in  the  shadow,  shrinking  close 
to  the  wall,  as  if  she  sought  to  sink  herself 
in  it.~\ 

CHORUS  OF  KINDRED 

—  O  help  us,  O  holy  Virgin! 
Is  this  what  the  vigil  gives  us, 
The  eve  of  Santo  Giovanni? 

—  What  disgrace  is  this  you  give  us,  —  what 

sorrow 

This  that  you  give  us,  Beheaded  one!  — 
Just  to-day  of  all  days. 

—  Candia,  have  you  lost  your  reason? 

—  O  Candia,  have  you  lost  your  senses? 

—  Ornella,  and  all  your  sisters  with  you? 

—  She  was  always  a  bit  of  a  madcap. 

—  Give  her  up  to  them,  give  her,  give  her 
To  these  hungry,  ravening  wolves! 

THE  REAPER  [still  holding  the  bars] 

Shepherd  Aligi,  Oho!   shepherd  Aligi, 
Will  you  give,  at  your  feast  of  espousal, 
A  place  to  a  sheep  that  is  rotten,  — 

47 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

A  sheep  that  is  mangy  and  lousy? 

Take  care  she  infect  not  your  sheepfold, 

Or  give  to  your  wife  her  contagion. 

O  Candia  della  Leonessa, 

Know  you   whom   in   your  home  there  you 

harbor, 
In   your   home   there   with   your   new-found 

daughter? 

The  daughter  of  Jorio,  the  daughter 
Of  the  Sorcerer  of  Codra! 
She-dog  roamer  o'er  mountains  and  valleys, 
A  haunter  of  stables  and  straw-stacks, 
Mila  the  shameless?    Mila  di  Codra. 
The  woman  of  stables  and  straw-heaps, 
Very  well  known  of  all  companies; 
And  now  it  has  come  to  be  our  turn,  — 
The  turn  of  the  reapers  of  Norca. 
Send  her  out  here,  send  her  out  here! 
We  must  have  her,  have  her,  have  her! 

[ALioi,pale  and  trembling,  advances  toward 
the  wretched  woman,,  who  remains  persistently 
in  the  shadow;  and  pulling  off  her  mantle,  he 
uncovers  her  face.] 

48 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

MILA  DI  CODRA 

No!  No!    It  is  not  true!    A  cruel  lie! 
A  cruel  lie !    Do  not  believe  him, 
Do  not  believe  what  such  a  dog  says! 
It  is  but  the  cursed  wine  speaking 
And  out  of  his  mouth  bubbling  evil. 
If  God  heard  it,  may  He  to  poison 
Turn  his  black  words,  and  he  drown  in  't ! 
No !    It  is  not  true.    A  cruel  he ! 

[The  three  sisters  stop  their  ears  while  the 
reaper  renews  his  vituperations. ,] 

THE  REAPER 

You  shameless  one!  you  are  common, 
Well  known  are  you  as  the  ditches, 
The  field-grass  to  dry  straw  turning, 
Under  your  body's  sins  burning, 
Men  for  your  body  have  gambled 
And  fought  with  pitchforks  and  sickles. 
Only  wait  just  a  bit  for  your  man,  Candia, 
And  you  '11  see!     He  '11  come  back  to  you 
bandaged, 
4  49 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI 

For  sure!    From  a  fight  with  Rainero, 
A  fight  in  the  grain-field  of  Mispa,  — 
For  whom  but  for  Jorio's  daughter? 
And  now  you  keep  her  in  your  home,  here, 
To  give  her  to  your  man  Lazaro, 
To  have  him  find  her  here  all  ready. 
Aligi!    Vienda  di  Giave! 
Give  up  to  her  your  bridal  bedstead ! 
And  all  ye  women,   go  and  scatter  wheat- 
grains,  — 

Upon  her  head  the  golden  wheat-grains! 
We  '11  come  back  ourselves  here  with  music, 
A  little  later  and  ask  for  the  wine- jug. 

[The  reaper  jumps  down  and  disappears 
mid  an  outbreak  of  coarse  laughter  from  the 
others.'} 

CHORUS  OF  REAPERS  [outside] 

Hand  us  out  the  wine- jug.    That 's  the  custom, 
— The  wine- jug,  the  wine- jug,  and  the  woman! 

[  AXIGI  stands  rigid >  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  floor,  perplexed,  still  holding  in  his  hand 
the  mantle  he  has  taken.'] 

50 


SCENE  I.  ] 


OF    JORIO 


MTT.A 

O  innocence,  O  innocence,  of  all  these 
Young  maidens  here,  you  have  heard  not, 
The  filthiness,  you  have  heard  not, 
Oh!  Tell  me  you  have  heard  not,  heard  not!  — 
At  least  not  you,  Ornella,  oh,  no,  not 
You  who  hare  wished  to  save  me! 

ANNA 

Do  not  go  near  her,  Ornella!    Or  would  you 
Have  her  ruin  you?    She,  the  daughter  of  the 

Sorcerer, 
Must  to  every  one  bring  ruin. 

MILA 

She  comes  to  me  because  behind  me 
She  sees  here  weeping  the  silent  angel  — 
The  guardian  over  my  soul  keeping  vigil. 

[AuGi  turns  quickly  toward  MILA  at  these 
words,  and  gazes  at  her  fixedly. ~\ 

MARIA  CORA 

Oh!   Oh!   it  is  sacrilege!    Sacrilege! 

51 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACT! 

LA  CINERELLA 

Ha !    She  has  blasphemed,  she  has  blasphemed, 
Against  the  heavenly  angel. 

FELAVIA 

She  will  desecrate  your  hearthstone, 
Candia,  unless  hence  you  chase  her. 

ANNA 

Out  with  her,  out,  in  good  time,  Aligi, 
Seize  her,  and  out  to  the  dogs  toss  her! 

LA  CATALANA 

Well  I  know  you,  Mila  di  Codra, 

Well  at  Farne  do  they  fear  you, 

And  well  I  know  jrour  doings. 

You  brought  death  to  Giovanna  Cametra, 

And  death  to  the  son  of  Panfilo. 

You  turned  the  head  of  poor  Alfonso, 

Gave  Tillura  the  evil  sickness, 

Caused  the  death  of  your  father,  even, 

Who  now  in  damnation  damns  you! 

MILA 

May  thou,  God,  protect  his  spirit 

52 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

And  unto  peace  his  soul  gather. 
Ah!    You  it  is  who  have  blasphemed 
Against  a  soul  that  is  departed 
And  may  your  blaspheming  speeches 
Fall  on  you,  whenever  death  fronts  you! 

[CANDIA,  seated  on  one  of  the  chests,  is  sad 
and  silent.  Now  she  rises.,  passes  through  the 
restless  circle  of  women,  and  advances  toward 
the  persecuted  one,  slowly,  without  anger. ~\ 

CHORUS  OF  REAPERS 

Ahey!  Ahey!    How  long  to  wait? 
Have  you  come  to  an  agreement? 

—  Oh,  I  say,  shepherd,  ho !  you  shepherd, 
For  yourself,  then,  do  you  keep  her? 

—  Candia,  what  if  Lazaro  come  back  now? 

—  Is  she  then  unwilling?    But  open, 
Open!    A  hand  we  will  lend  her. 
And  meanwhile  give  us  the  wine-jug, 
The  wine- jug,  the  wine- jug's  the  custom! 

[Another  reaper  peers  in  through  the 
grating. ~\ 

53 


THE    DAUGHTER        Ucri. 

THE  REAPER 

Mila  di  Codra,  come  out  here! 

For  you  that  will  be  much  the  better. 

To  try  to  escape  us  is  useless, 

We  '11  seek  now  the  oak-tree  shady, 

And  throw  dice  for  the  one  to  have  you, 

That  the  chance  for  us  all  be  equal, 

Now,  we  will  not  quarrel  for  you, 

As  Lazaro  did  with  Rainero, 

No,  we  '11  have  no  useless  bloodshed. 

But,  now,  if  you  don't  come  out  here, 

Ere  the  last  one  turns  up  his  dice-box, 

Then  this  door  we  all  shall  break  open 

And  carry  things  here  with  a  free  hand. 

You  are  warned  now;    best  heed  this  your 

warning, 
Candia  della  Leonessa! 

[He  jumps  down  and  the  clamor  is  much 
abated.  The  ringing  of  the  village  church  bells 
can  be  heard  in  the  distance. ] 

CANDIA 

Woman,  hear  me.    Lo,  I  am  the  mother 

54 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

Of  these  three  innocent  maidens, 
Also  of  this  youth,  the  bridegroom. 
We  were  in  peace  in  our  home  here, 
In  peace  and  in  rest  with  God's  favor, 
And  blessing  with  home  rites  the  marriage, 
You  may  see  the  wheat  still  in  the  baskets 
And  in  the  blest  loaf  the  fresh  flower! 
You  have  entered  in  here  and  brought  us 
Suddenly  conflict  and  sorrow, 
Interrupted  the  kindred's  giving, 
In  our  hearts  sowing  thoughts  of  dark  omen, 
That  have  set  my  children  weeping, 
And  my  bowels  yearn  and  weep  with  them. 
All  to  chaff  our  good  wheat  grain  is  turning, 
And  a  worse  thing  still  may  follow. 
It  is  best  for  you  to  go  now. 
Go  thou  with  God,  knowing  surely 
He  will  help  you,  if  you  trust  Him. 
Ohl    There  is  cause  for  all  this  our  sorrow. 
We  would  fain  have  desired  your  safety. 
Yet  now,  turn  your  steps  hence,  swiftly, 
So  that  none  of  this  house  need  harm  you. 
The  door,  this  my  son  will  now  open. 

65 


THE    DAUGHTER        Ucri. 

[The  victim  listens  in  humility  with  bent 
head,  pale  and  trembling.  ALIGI  steps  toward 
the  door  and  listens.  His  face  shows  great 
sorrow.] 

MELA 

Christian  mother,  lo!   the  earth  here 
I  kiss  where  your  feet  have  trodden, 
And  I  ask  of  you  forgiveness. 
With  my  heart  in  my  hand  lying, 
In  the  palm  of  my  hand,  grieving, 
For  this  sorrow  of  my  bringing. 
But  I  did  not  seek  your  dwelling: 
I  was  blinded,  with  fear  blinded, 
And  the  Father,  He,  all-seeing, 
Led  me  here  thus  to  your  fireside, 
So  that  I,  the  persecuted, 
Might  find  mercy  by  your  fireplace, 
Mercy  making  this  day  sacred. 
O  have  mercy!    Christian  mother. 
O  have  mercy!  and  each  wheat  grain 
Resting  here  within  these  hampers 
God  will  return  a  hundred-fold. 

56 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

LA  CATALANA  [whispering] 

Listen  not.    Whoever  listens 
Will  be  lost.    The  false  one  is  she. 
Oh!    I  know!     Her  father  gave  her, 
To  make  herjvoice  so  sweet  and  gentle, 
Evil  roots  of  secret  magic. 

ANNA  r/^ 

Just  see  now  how  Aligi  's  spellbound! 

MARIA  CORA 

Beware!  beware!  lest  she  give  him 
Fatal  illness.    O  Lord,  save  us! 
Have  you  not  heard  what  all  the  reapers 
Have  been  saying  about  Lazaro? 

MONICA 

Shall  we  stay  here  then  till  vespers 
With  these  baskets  on  our  heads  thus? 
I  shall  put  mine  on  the  ground  soon. 

[CANDIA  gazes  intently  upon  her  son,  who  is 
fastened  upon  MILA.  Suddenly  fear  and  rage 
seize  her,  and  she  cries  aloud '.] 

57 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTI. 

CANDIA 

Begone,  begone,  you  sorcerer's 
Daughter!    Go  to  the  dogs!    Begone! 
In  my  house  remain  no  longer! 
Fling  open  the  door,  Aligi ! 

MELA 

Mother  of  Ornella,  —  Love's  own  mother, 
All,  but  not  this,  God  forgiveth. 
Trample  on  me,  God  forgiveth, 
Cut  off  my  hands,  yet  God  forgiveth, 
Gouge  out  my  eyes,  pluck  my  tongue  out, 
Tear  me  to  shreds,  yet  God  forgiveth, 
Strangle  me,  yet  God  forgiveth, 
But  if  you  now  (heed  me,  O  heed  me! 
While  the  bells  are  ringing  for  Santo  Gio- 
vanni). 

If  now  you  seize  upon  this  body,  — 
This  poor  tortured  flesh  signed  in  Christ's 

name, 

And  toss  it  out  there  in  that  courtyard, 
In  sight  of  these  your  spotless  daughters, 
Abandoning  it  to  sin  of  that  rabble, 

58 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

To  hatred  and  to  brutal  lusting, 
Then,  O  mother  of  Ornella, 
Mother  of  innocence  in  so  doing, 
Doing  that  thing,  God  condemns  you! 

LA  CATALANA 

She  was  never  christened,  never, 
Her  father  was  never  buried 
In  consecrated  ground;  under 
A  thorn-bush  he  lies.    I  swear  it. 

MTT.A 

Demons  are  behind  you,  woman! 

Black  and  foul  and  false  your  mouth  is! 

LA  CATALANA 

O  Candia,  hear  her,  hear  her, 

Curses  heaping!    But  a  little, 

And  she  '11  drive  you  from  your  dwelling, 

And  then  all  the  reapers  threatened 

Will  most  surely  fall  upon  us. 

ANNA  DI  BOVA 

Up,  Aligi!    Drag  her  out  there! 

59 


THE    DAUGHTER        Ucri. 

MAMA  CORA 

See  you  not  how  your  Vienda, 

Your  young  bride,  looks  like  one  dying? 

LA  CINERELLA 

What  kind  of  a  man  are  you?  Forsaken 
Thus  of  all  force  in  your  muscles? 
Is  the  tongue  within  your  mouth,  then, 
Dried  and  shrivelled  that  you  speak  not? 

FELAVIA 

You  seem  lost.    How  then?    Did  your  senses 
Go  astray  afar  off  in  the  mountain  ?- 
Did  you  lose  your  wits  down  in  the  valley? 

MONICA 

Look !    He  has  n't  let  go  of  her  mantle, 
Since  the  time  he  took  it  from  her. 
To  his  fingers  it  seems  rooted. 

LA  CATALANA 

Do  you  think  your  son  Aligi's 
Mind  is  going?    Heaven  help  us! 

60 


SCENEl.1  OF         JORIO 

CANDIA 

Aligi,  Aligi!    You  hear  me? 

What  ails  you?    Where  are  you?    Gone  are 

your  senses? 
What  ig  coming  to  birth  in  your  heart,  son? 

[Taking  the  mantle  out  of  his  hand,  she 
throws  it  to  the  woman. ,] 

I  myself  will  open  the  door;  take  her 
And  push  her  out  of  here  straightway. 
Aligi,  to  you  I  speak.    You  hear  me? 
Ah!  verily  you  have  been  sleeping 
For  seven  hundred  hundred  years, 
And  all  of  us  are  long  forgotten. 
Kindred!   God  wills  my  undoing. 
I  hoped  these  last  days  would  bring  solace 
And  that  God  would  now  give  me  repose, 
That  less  bitterness  now  need  I  swallow; 
But  bitterness  overpowers  me. 
My  daughters!    Take  ye  my  black  mantle 
From  out  of  the  ancient  chest  there, 
And  cover  my  head  and  my  sorrows, 
Within  my  own  soul  be  my  wailing! 

61 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

{The  son  shakes  his  head,  his  face  showing 
perpleocity  and  sorrow,  and  he  speaks  as  one  in 
a  dream.'} 

ALIGI 

What  is  your  will  of  me,  mother? 
Unto  you  said  I:   "Ah!  lay  there 
Against  both  of  the  door-posts  the  ploughshare, 
The  wain  and  the  oxen,  put  sods  there  and 

stones  there, 

Yea,  the  mountain  with  all  of  its  snow-drifts." 
What  did  I  say  then?     And  how  answered 

you? 

"  Heed  the  waxen  cross  that  is  holy, 
That  was  blest  on  the  Day  of  Ascension, 
And  the  hinges  with  holy  water  sprinkled." 
O,  what  is  your  will  that  I  do?    It  was  night 

still 

When  she  took  the  road  that  comes  hither. 
Profound,  then,  profound  was  my  slumber, 
O  mother!  although  you  had  not  mingled  for 
^  me, 

1)  The  wine  with  the  seed  of  the  poppy. 
Now  that  slumber  of  Christ  falls  and  fails  me: 

62 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

And  though  well  I  know  whence  this  pro- 

ceedeth, 
My  lips  are  yet  stricken  with  dumbness. 

0  woman!  what  then  is  your  bidding? 
That  I  seize  her  here  now  by  her  tresses,  — 
That  I  drag  her  out  there  in  the  courtyard,  — 
That  I  toss  her  for  these  dogs  to  raven? 
Well!    So  be  it!    So  be  it!  — I  do  so. 

[ALIGI  advances  toward  MILA,  but  she 
shrinks  within  the  fireplace,  clinging  for 
refuge.] 

MILA 

Touch  me  not!    Oh!  you,  you  are  sinning, 
Against  the  old  laws  of  the  hearthstone  — 
You  are  sinning  the  great  sin  that 's  mortal 
Against  your  own  blood  and  the  sanction 
Of  your  race,  of  your  own  ancient  kinfolk. 
Lo!    over  the  stone  of  the  fireplace 

1  pour  out  the  wine  that  was  given 

To  me  by  your  sister,  in  blood  bound; 
So  now  if  you  touch  me,  molest  me, 
All  the  dead  in  your  land,  in  your  country, 

63 


THE    DAUGHTER 

All  those  of  the  long  years  forgotten, 
Generation  to  past  generation,' 
That  lie  underground  eighty  fathoms 
Will  abhor  you  with  horror  eternal. 

[Taking  the  bowl  of  wine,  MILA  pours  it 
over  the  inviolate  hearth.  The  women  utter 
fierce  and  frantic  cries. ] 

THE  CHORUS  OF  KINDRED 

0  woe !     She  bewitches  —  bewitches  the  fire- 
place 1 

—  She  poured  with  the  wine  there  a  mixture. 

1  saw  it,  I  saw  her.    'T  was  stealthy ! 

—  O  take  her,  O  take  her,  Aligi, 

And  force  her  away  from  the  hearthstone. 

—  By  the  hair,  O  seize  her,  seize  her! 

—  Aligi,  fear  you  naught,  fear  nothing, 
All  her  conjuring  yet  will  be  nothing. 

—  Take  her  away  and  shiver  the  wine-bowl! 
Shiver  it  there  against  the  andirons. 

—  Break  the  chain  loose  and  engirdle 
Her  neck  with  it,  three  times  twist  it. 

64 


Scorn  I.]  OF      JORIO 

—  She  has  surely  bewitched  the  hearthstone. 

—  Woe!     Woe  for  the  house  that  totters! 
Ah!    What  lamenting  will  here  be  lamented! 

THE  CHORUS  OF  REAPERS 

Oho  there!    All  quarrelling,  are  you? 
We  are  waiting  here  and  we  're  watching. 
We  have  cast  the  dice,  we  know  the  winner. 
Bring  her  out  to  us,  you  shepherd! 
Yes,  yes !    Or  the  door  we  '11  break  down. 

[They  join  in  blows  on  the.  door  and  in 
clamoring.'} 

ANNA  DI  BOVA 

Hold  on!    Hold  on!  and  have  patience  a  little, 
But  a  little  while  longer,  good  jnenfolk. 
Aligi  is  taking  her.    Soon  you  will  have  her. 

[AxiGi,  Uke  one  demented,  takes  her  by  the 
wrists,  but  she  resists  and  tries  to  free  her self. ~\ 

MILA 

No!    No!    You  are  sinning,  are  sinning. 
Crush  under  your  feet  my  forehead 
5  65 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

Or  stun  it  with  blows  of  your  sheep-hook, 

And  when  I  am  dead  toss  me  out  there. 

No,  no!    God's  punishment  on  you! 

From  the  womb  of  your  wife  serpents 

To  you  shall  be  born  and  brought  forth. 

You  shall  sleep  no  more,  no  more, 

And  rest  shall  forsake  your  eyelids, 

From  your  eyes  tears  of  blood  shall  gush  forth. 

Ornella,  Ornella,  defend  me, 

Aid  me,  O  thou,  and  have  mercy! 

Ye  sisters  in  Christ,  do  thou  help  me! 

^S he  frees  herself  and  goes  to  the  three  sis- 
ters, who  surround  her.  Blind  with  rage  and 
horror,  ALIGI  lifts  his  hook  to  strike  her  on  the 
head.  Immediately  his  three  sisters  begin  to 
cry  and  moan.  This  stoics  him  at  once;  he  lets 
the  hook  fall  on  his  knees  and  with  open  arms  he 
stares  behind  her.~\ 

ALIGI 

Mercy  of  God!    O  give  me  forgiveness! 
I  saw  the  angel,  silent,  weeping. 

\  V         -I 

He  is  weeping  with  you,  O  my  sisters! 

66 


]  OF    JORIO 

And  at  me  he  is  gazing  and  weeping. 
Even  thus  shall  I  see  him  forever, 
Till  the  hour  for  my  passing,  yea!  past  it. 
I  have  sinned  thus  against  my  own  hearth- 
stone, 

My  own  dead  and  the  land  of  my  fathers; 
It  will  spurn  me  and  scorn  me  forever, 
Deny  rest  to  my  weary  dead  body! 
For  my  sins,  sisters,  purification, 
Seven  times,  seven  times,  I  do  ask  it. 
Seven  days  shall  my  lips  touch  the  ashes, 
And  as  many  times  more  as  the  tears  shed 
From  your  gentle  eyes,  O  my  sisters! 
Let  the  angel  count  them,  my  sisters, 
And  brand  on  my  heart  all  their  number! 
It  is  thus  that  I  ask  you  forgiveness. 
Before  God  thus  I  ask  you,  my  sisters, 
Oh!  pray  you  for  brother  Aligi, 
Who  must  now  return  to  the  mountain. 
And  she  who  has  suffered  such  shame  here, 
I  pray  you  console  her,  refresh  her 
With  drink,  wipe  the  dust  from  her  garments, 
Bathe  her  feet  with  water  and  vinegar. 

07 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACIL 

Comfort  her!  I  wished  not  to  harm  her. 

Spurred  on  was  I  by  these  voices. 

And  those  who  to  this  wrong  have  brought 

me 

Shall  suffer  for  many  days  greatly. 
Mila  di  Codra!  sister  in  Jesus, 

0  give  me  peace  for  my  offences. 
These  flowerets  of  Santo  Giovanni 

Off  from  my  sheep-hook  now  do  I  take  them 
And  thus  at  your  feet  here  I  place  them. 
Look  at  you  I  cannot.    I  'm  shamefaced. 
Behind  you  I  see  the  sad  angel. 
But  this  hand  which  did  you  offence  here, 

1  burn  in  that  fire  with  live  embers. 

[Dragging  himself  on  his  knees  to  the  fire- 
place, he  bends  over  and  finds  a  burning  ember. 
Taking  it  with  his  left  hand,  he  puts  the  point  of 
it  in  the  palm  of  the  right.] 

MILA. 

It   is    forgiven.      No,   no.      Do    not   wound 

yourself. 

For  me,  I  forgive  you,  and  God  shall  receive 

68 


SCENE!.]  OF         JORIO 

Your  penitent  prayer.    Rise  up  from  the  fire- 

place ! 

One  only,  God  only  may  punish; 
And  He  that  hand  hath  given  to  you 
To  guide  your  flocks  to  the  pasture. 
And  how  then  your  sheep  can  you  pasture 
If  your  hand  is  infirm,  O  Aligi? 
For  me,  in  all  humbleness,  I  forgive  you, 
And  your  name  I  shall  ever  remember, 
Morn,  eve,  and  midday  shall  my  blessing 
Follow  you  with  your  flocks  in  the  mountains. 


THE  CHORUS  OF  REAPERS  [outside] 

—  Oho,  there!    Oho,  there!    How  now? 

—  What  is  the  row?    Do  you  fool  us? 

—  Ho  !    We  '11  tear  down  the  door  there. 

—  Yes,  yes!     Take  that  timber,  the  plough- 
beam. 

—  Shepherd,  we  '11  not  have  you  fool  us. 
Now,  now,  that  iron  there,  take  it! 

Down  with  it!    Crash  down  the  door  there! 

—  Ho,  shepherd  Aligi!    Now  answer! 
One,  then!    Two!    Three,  and  down  goes  it! 

69 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acri. 

[The  heavy  breathing  of  the  men  lifting  the 
timber  and  iron  is  heard.] 

ALIGI 

For  you,  for  me,  and  for  all  my  people, 
I  make  the  sign  of  the  cross! 

[Rising  and  going  toward  the  door,  he 
continues, ,] 

Reapers  of  Norca!    This  door  I  open. 

[The  men  answer  in  a  unanimous  clamor. 
The  wind  brings  the  sound  of  the  bells.  ALIGI 
draws  the  bars  and  bolts  and  silently  crosses 
himself,  then  he  takes  down  from  the  wall  the 
cross  of  wax  and  kisses  it.~\ 

Women,    God's    servants,    cross    yourselves 
praying. 

[All  the  women  cross  themselves  and  kneel- 
ing murmur  the  litany. ~] 

WOMEN  [together} 

Kyrie  eleison! 

Lord  have  mercy  upon  us! 
70 


SCENE!.]  OF         JORIO 

Christe  eleison! 

Christ  have  mercy  upon  us! 
Kyrie  eleison! 

Lord  have  mercy  upon  us! 
Christe  audi  nos! 

O  Christ  hear  us! 
Christe  exaudi  nos! 

O  Christ  hearken  unto  us! 

[The  shepherd  then  lays  the  cross  on  the 
threshold  between  the  hoe  and  the  distaff  and 
opens  the  door.  In  the  yard  glittering  in  the 
fierce  sun  the  Unen-clad  reapers  appear.] 

ALIGI 

Brothers  in  Christ!    Behold  the  cross 
That  was  blest  on  the  Day  of  Ascension! 
I  have  placed  it  there  on  the  threshold, 
That  you  may  not  sin  against  this  gentle 
Lamb  of  Christ  who  here  finds  refuge, 
Seeking  safety  in  this  iireplace. 

[The  reapers,  struck  silent  and  deeply 
impressed,  uncover  their  heads. ,] 

71 


THE    DAUGHTER        [ACTL 

I  saw  there  standing  behind  her 

The  angel  who  guards  her,  silent, 

These  eyes  that  shall  see  life  eternal 

Saw  her  angel  that  stood  there  weeping. 

Look,  brothers  in  Christ,  I  swear  it! 

Turn    back    to   your    wheat-fields    and   reap 

them, 

Harm  you  not  one  who  has  harmed  you  never! 
Nor  let  the  false  enemy  beguile  you 
Any  longer  with  his  potions. 
Reapers  of  Norca,  heaven  bless  you! 
May  the  sheaves  in  your  hands  be  doubled! 
And  may  Santo  Giovanni's  head  severed 
Be  shown  unto  you  at  the  sunrise, 
If,  for  this,  to-night  you  ascend  the  hill  Plaia. 
Ajid  wish  ye  no  harm  unto  me,  the  shepherd, 
To  me,  Aligi,  our  Saviour's  servant! 

[The  kneeling  women  continue  the  litanies, 
CANDIA  invoking,  the  others  responding.'] 

CANDIA  and  CHORUS  OF  THE  KINDRED 

Mater  purissima,  Mother  of  Purity, 

ora  pro  nobis.  pray  for  us. 

72 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

Mater  castissima,  Mother  of  Chastity, 
ora  pro  nobis.  pray  for  us. 

Mater  inviolata,  Mother  Inviolate, 
ora  pro  nobis.  pray  for  us. 

[The  reapers  bow  themselves,  touch  the  cross 
with  their  hands  and  then  touch  their  lips  and 
silently  withdraw  toward  the  glittering  fields 
outside.,  ALIGI  leaning  against  the  jamb  of  the 
door  following  with  his  eyes  their  departure, 
the  silence  meanwhile  broken  only  by  voices 
coming  from  the  country  pathways  outside. ,] 

FIRST  VOICE 

OI  turn  back,  Lazaro  di  Rgio. 

ANOTHER  VOICE 

Turn  back,  turn  back,  Lazaro! 

[The  shepherd,  startled  and  shading  his 
face  with  his  hands,  looks  toward  the  path.] 

CANDIA  and  THE  WOMEN 

Virgo  veneranda,        Virgin  venerated, 
Virgo  predicanda,       Virgin  admonishing, 
Virgo  potens,  Virgin  potential, 

ora  pro  nobis.  pray  for  us. 

73 


THE    DAUGHTER 

ALIGI 

Father,  father,  what  is  this?     Why  are  you 
bandaged? 

Why  are  you  bleeding,  father?    Speak  out  and 

•  J 

tell  me, 
O  ye  men  of  the  Lord!    Who  wounded  him? 

[LAZARO  appears  at  the  door  with  his  head 
bandaged,  two  men  in  white  linen  supporting 
him.  CANDIA  stops  praying,  rises  to  her  feet 
and  goes  to  the  entrance.} 

ALIGI 

Father,  halt  there !    The  cross  lies  there  on  the 

door-sill, 
You  cannot  pass  through  without  kneeling 

down. 
If  this  blood  be  unjust  blood  you  cannot  pass 

through. 

[The  two  men  sustain  the  tottering  man 
and  he  falls  guiltily  on  his  knees  outside  the 
doorway.} 

74 


ScENEi.3  OF    JORIO 

CANDIA 

O  daughters,  my  daughters,  't  was  true  then ! 
O  weep,  my  daughters!   let  mourning  enfold 
us! 

[The  daughters  embrace  their  mother.  The 
kindred  before  rising  put  their  hampers  down 
on  the  ground.  MILA  takes  up  her  mantle  and 
still  kneeling  wraps  herself  up  in  it,  hiding  her 
face.  Almost  creeping,  she  approaches  the 
door  toward  the  jamb  opposite  that  where 
AUGI  leans.  Silently  and  swiftly  she  rises  and 
leans  against  the  wall,  and  stands  there  wrapt 
and  motionless,  watching  her  chance  to  dis- 
appear.] 


75 


THE    DAUGHTER 


ACT  II. 

A  MOUNTAIN  cavern  is  seen  partially 
protected  by  rough  boards,  straw,  and 
twigs  and  opening  wide  upon  a  stony 
mountain  path.  From  the  wide  opening  are 
seen  green  pastures,  snow-clad  peaks,  and  pass- 
ing clouds.  In  the  cavern  are  pallets  made  of 
sheep-pelts,  small,  rude  wooden  tables,  pouches 
and  skins,  filled  and  empty,  a  rude  bench  for 
wood  turning  and  carving,  with  an  axe  upon 
it,  a  draw-knife,  plane,  rasps,  and  other  tools, 
and  near  them  finished  pieces;  distaffs,  spoons 
and  ladles,  mortars  and  pestles,  musical  instru- 
ments, and  candlesticks.  A  large  Hock  of  the 
trunk  of  a  walnut  tree  has  at  its  base  the  barkf 
and  above,  in  full  relief,  the  figure  of  an  angel 
hewn  into  shape  to  the  waist,  with  the  two 
wings  almost  finished.  Before  the  image  of 
the  Virgin  in  a  depression  of  the  cavern  like  a 
niche,  a  lamp  is  burning.  A  shepherd's  bag- 
is 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

pipe  hangs  close  by.  The  bells  of  the  sheep 
wandering  in  the  stillness  of  the  mountain  may 
be  heard.  The  day  is  closing  and  it  is  about 
the  time  of  the  autumnal  equinox. 

The  treasure-seeker,  MALDE,  and  ANNA 
ONNA,  the  old  herb-gatherer,  are  lying  asleep 
on  the  pelts,  in  their  rags.  COSMA,  the  saint, 
dressed  in  a  long  friar's  frock,  is  also  asleep, 
but  in  a  sitting  posture  with  his  arms  clasped 
about  his  knees  and  his  chin  bowed  over  on 
them.  ALIGI  is  seated  on  a  little  bench,  intent 
upon  carving  with  his  tools  the  walnut  block. 
MILA  DI  CODBA  is  seated  opposite,  gazing  at 

him. 

MILA 

Bided  mute  the  patron  angel 
From  the  walnut  woodblock  carven, 
Deaf  the  wood  stayed,  secret,  sacred, 
Saint  Onofrip  vouchsafed  nothing. 

Till  said  one  apart,  a  third  one 
(O  have  pity  on  us,  Patron!) 
Till  said  one  apart,  the  fair  one, 
Lo!   my  heart  all  willing,  waiting! 

77 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTH. 

Would  he  quaff  a  draught  of  marvel? 
Let  him  take  my  heart's  blood,  quaff  it! 
But  of  this  make  no  avowal, 
But  of  this  make  no  revealing. 

Suddenly  the  stump  budded  branches, 
Out  of  the  mouth  a  branch  sprang  budding, 
Every  finger  budded  branches, 
Saint  Onofrio  all  grew  green  again! 

[She  bends  over  to  gather  the  chips  and 
shavings  around  the  carved  block. ,] 

ALIGI 

O  Mila,  this  too  is  hewn  from  the  stump  of 

a  walnut, 
Grow    green    will    it,    Mila?  —  Grow    green 

again? 

MILA  [stitt  bent  over] 

"Would  he  quaff  a  draught  of  marvel 
Let  him  take  my  heart's  blood."  — 

ALIGI 

Grow    green    will    it,    Mila?  —  Grow    green 
again? 

78 


SCENEI.]  OF        JORIO 

MELA 

"  But  of  this  make  no  avowal, 
But  of  this  make  no  revealing." 

ALIGI 

Mila,  Mila,  let  a  miracle  now  absolve  us! 
And  may  the  mute  patron  angel  grant  us 

protection. 
'T  is  for  him  that  I  work,  but  not  with  my 

chisel, 
Ah!   for  him  do  I  work  with  my  soul  in  my 

fingers ! 
But  what  are  you  seeking?    What  have  you 

lost  there? 

MILA 

I  but  gather  the  shavings,  that  in  fire  we  burn 
them 

With  each  a  grain  of  pure  incense  being  added. 

Make    haste,    then,    Aligi,    for    the    time    is 
nearing. 

The  moonlight  of  September  fleeting,  lessen- 
ing; 

79 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrii. 

All  of  the  shepherds  now  are  leaving,  depart- 
ing, 

Some  on  to  Puglia  fare,  some  Homeward 
faring;  — 

And  whither  then  will  my  love  his  footsteps 
be  turning? 

Wherever  he  journeys  still  may  his  pathway 

Go  facing  fresh  pastures  and  springs,  not 
winds  keen  and  chilling, 

And  of  me  may  he  think  when  the  night  over- 
takes him! 

AIIGI 

Romeward  faring  then  shall  go  Aligi, 
Onward  to  Rome  whither  all  roads  are  leading, 
His  flock  along  with  him  to  lofty  Rome, 
To  beg  an  indulgence  of  the  Vicar, 
Of  the  Holy  Vicar  of  Christ  our  Saviour, 
For  he  of  all  shepherds  is  the  Shepherd. 
Not  to  Puglia  land  will  go  Aligi, 
But  to  our  blest  Lady  of  Schiavonia, 
Sending  to  her  by  Alai  of  Averna 
These  two  candlesticks  of  cypress  wood,  only, 

80 


SCENEI.1  OF        JORIO 

And  with  them  merely  two  humble  tapers, 
So  she  forget  not  a  lowly  sinner 
She,  our  Lady,  who  guardeth  the  sea-shore. 
Then  when  this  angel  shall  be  all  finished, 
Aligi  upon  a  mule's  back  will  load  it, 
And  step  by  step  will  he  wend  on  with  it. 

MKA 

O  hasten,  O  hasten!  for  the  time  is  ripening. 
From  the  girdle  downward  very  nearly 
Sunk  in  the  wood  yet  and  lost  is  the  angel; 
The  feet  are  held  fast  in  the  knots,  the  hands 

without  fingers, 

The  eyes  with  the  forehead  still  level. 
You  hastened  indeed  his  wings  to  give  him, 
Feather  by  feather,  yet  forth  he  flies  not! 

% 

ALIGI 

Gostanzo  will  aid  me  in  this,  the  painter, 
Gostanzo  di  Bisegna;   the  painter  is  he 
Who  tells  stories  on  wood  in  color. 
Unto  him  I  have  spoken  already, 
And  he  will  give  unto  me  fine  colors, 
e  81 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrn. 

Perhaps,  too,  the  good  monks  at  the  abbey, 

For  a  yearling,  a  little  fine  gold  leaf 

For  the  wings  and  the  bosom  will  give  me. 

MILA 

O  hasten!    Hasten!    The  time  is  rip'ning, 
Longer  than  day  is  the  night  already, 
From  the  valley  the  shades  rise  more  quickly, 
And  unawares  they  shut  down  around  us. 
Soon  the  eye  will  guide  the  hand  no  longer, 
And  unsuccored  of  art  will  grope  the  blind 
chisel! 

[CosMA  stirs  in  his  sleep  and  moans.  From 
a  distance  the  sacred  songs  of  pilgrims  crossing 
the  mountain  are  heard.] 

Cosma  is  dreaming.     Who  knows  what  he's 

dreaming! 

Listen,  listen,  the  songs  of  the  pilgrims 
Who  across  the  mountain  go  journeying, 
May  be  to  Santa  Maria  della  Potenza, 
Aligi,  —  toward  your  own  country,  —  toward 
Your  own  home,  where  your  mother  is  sitting. 

82 


SCENBl.]  OF         JORIO 

And  may  be  they  will  pass  by  very  near, 
And  your  mother  will  hear,  and  Ornella, 
Mayhap,  and  they  '11  say:    "  These  must  be 

pilgrims 

Coming  down  from  the  place  of  the  shepherds ; 
And  yet  no  loving  token  is  sent  us! " 

[AuGi  is  bending  over  his  work  carving 
the  lower  part  of  the  block.  Giving  a  blow 
with  the  axe  he  leaves  the  iron  in  the  wood  and 
comes  forward  anxiously.] 

ALIGI 

Ah!  Why,  why  will  you  touch  where  the  heart 
is  hurting? 

Oh !  Mila,  I  will  speed  on,  overtake  their  cross- 
bearer 

And  beg  him  bear  onward  my  loving  thoughts 
with  them. 

And  yet,  Mila,  yet  —  Oh !  how  shall  I  say  it, 
Mila? 

MILA 

You  will  say:  "  O  good  cross-bearer,  I  prithee, 
If  ye  cross  through  the  valley  of  San  Biagio, 

83 


THE    DAUGHTER 

Through  the  countryside  called  Acquanova, 
Ask  ye  there  for  the  house  of  a  woman 
Who  is  known  as  Candia  della  Leonessa, 
And  stay  ye  your  steps  there,  for  there  most 

surely 

Drink  shall  ye  have  to  restore  you,  and  may  be 
Much  beside  given.    Then  stay  there  and  say  ye : 
'  Aligi,  your  son,  sends  unto  you  greeting, 
And  to  his  sisters,  and  also  the  bride,  Vienda, 
And  he  promises  he  will  be  coming 
To  receive  from  your  hands  soon  your  blessing 
Ere  in  peace  he  depart  on  long  travels. 
Ajid  he  says,  too,  that  he  is  set  free  now, 
From  her  —  the  evil  one  —  during  these  late 

days; 

And  he  will  be  cause  of  dissension  no  longer, 
And  he  will  be  cause  of  lamenting  no  longer, 
To  the  mother,  the  bride,  and  the  sisters.' ' 

ALIGI 

Mila,  Mila,  what  ill  wind  strikes  you 
And  stirs  up  your  soul  in  you  thus?  —  A  wind 
sudden, 

84 


Scon  I.]  OF      JORIO 

A  wind  full  of  fearing!  And  on  your  lips 
dying, 

Your  voice  is;  your  blood  your  cheek  is  drain- 
ing. 

And  wherefore,  tell  me,  should  I  be  sending 

This  message  of  falsehood  to  my  mother? 

MILA 

It  is  the  truth,  it  is  tjie  truth,  I  tell  you, 
O  brother  mine  and  dear  to  the  sister, 
It  is  true  what  I  say;  as  true  is  it 
That  I  have  remained  by  you  untainted, 
Like  a  sacred  lamp  before  your  faith  burning, 
With  immaculate  love  before  you  shining. 
It  is  the  truth,  it  is  the  truth  I  tell  you. 
And  I  say :  Go,  go,  speed  ye  on  your  pathway 
And  meet  ye  the  cross-bearer  so  that  he  carry 
Your  greetings  of  peace  on  to  Acquanova. 
Now  come  is  the  hour  of  departure 
For  the  daughter  of  Jorio.    And  let  it  be  so. 

ALIGI 

Yea,  verily,  you  have  partaken  of  honey,  wild 
honey 

85 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

That  your  mind  is  thus  troubled! 
And  you   would   go   whither?    Oh,   whither, 
Mila? 

MELA 

Pass  on  thither  where  all  roads  are  leading. 

ALIGI 

Ah!    Will  you  come  then  with  me?    O,  come 

with  me! 

Though  full  long  the  journey,  you  also,  Mila, 
Will  I  place  on  the  mule's  back  and  travel, 
Cherishing  hope,  toward  Rome  the  eternal! 

MILA 

Needs  be  that  I  go  the  opposite  way, 
With  steps  hurried,  bereft  of  all  hoping. 

ALIGI  [turning  impatiently  to  the  sleeping  old  herb-vxman] 

Anna  Onna!    Up,  arouse  you!    Go  and  find 

me 

Grains  of  black  hellebore,  hellebore  ebon, 
To  give  back  to  this  woman  her  senses. 

86 


]  OF        JORIO 

MLLA 

O  be  not  angry,  Aligi,  for  if  you  are  angry  — 
For  if  you  are  also  against  me,  how  shall  I 

live  through 
This  day  till  the  evening?    For  behold,  if  you 

trample 
My  heart  beneath  you,  I  shall  gather  it  never 

again  1 

ALIGI 

And  I  to  my  home  shall  be  turning  never 

again, 

If  not  with  you,  O  daughter  of  Jorio, 
Mila  di  Codra,  my  own  by  the  Sacrament! 

M3LA 

Aligi,  can  I  cross  the  very  threshold 
Whereon  once  the  waxen  cross  was  lying, 
Where  a  man  once  appeared  who  was  bloody? 
And  unto  whom  said  the  son  of  this  man: 
"  If  this  blood  be  unjust  blood  you  cannot 

pass  through  "  ? 

High  noonday  't  was  then,  the  eve  of  the  day 
Of  Santo  Giovanni,  and  harvest  day. 

87 


THE    DAUGHTER       tAcrn. 

Now  in  peace  on  that  wall  hangs  the  idle 

sickle ; 

Now  at  rest  lies  the  grain  in  the  granary; 
But  of  that  sorrow's  sowing  the  seeds  are  still 

growing. 

[COSMA  moves  in  his  sleep  and  moans. ~\ 

ALIGI 

Know  you,  then,  one  who  shall  lead  you  by  the 
hand  thither! 

COSMA  [crying  out  in  his  sleep] 

O  do  not  unbind  him!    No,  no,  do  not  unbind 
him! 

[The  saint,  stretching  his  arms,  lifts  up  his 
face  from  his  knees.'] 

MTLA 

Cosma,  Cosma,  what  are  you  dreaming?    Tell 
your  dreaming! 

[COSMA  wakens  and  rises.'} 

ALIGI 

What  have  you  been  seeing  ?    Tell  your  seeing ! 

88 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

COSMA 

The  face  of  Fear  was  turned  full  upon  me. 
I  have  beheld  it.    But  I  may  not  tell  it. 
Every  dream  that  cometh  of  God  must  be 

chastened 

From  the  fire  of  it  first  before  giving. 
I  have  beheld  it.    And  I  shall  speak,  surely. 
Yet  not  now,  lest  I  speak  the  name  vainly 
Of  my  Lord  and  my  God,  lest  I  judge  now 
While  my  darkness  is  still  overpowering. 

AIIGI 

O  Cosma,  thou  art  holy.    Many  a  year 
Have  you  bathed  in  the  melting  snow  water, 
In  the  water  o'erflowing  the  mountain, 
Quenching  your  thirst  in  the  clear  sight  of 

Heaven, 

And  this  day  you  have  slept  in  my  cavern, 
On   the   sheep-skin   that 's   steamed   well   in 

sulphur 

So  the  spirit  of  evil  must  shun  it. 
In  your  dreaming  now  you  have  seen  visions, 
And  the  eye  of  the  Lord  God  is  on  you. 

89 


THE    DAUGHTER 


Help  me  then  with  your  sure  divination! 
Now  to  you  I  shall  speak.    You  will  answer. 

COSMA 

All  unready  am  I  in  wisdom, 
Nor  have  I,  O  youth,  understanding 
Of  so  much  as  the  stone  in  the  path  of  the 
shepherd. 

ALIGI 

0  Cosma,  man  of  God,  heed  me  and  listen! 

1  implore  by  the  angel  in  that  block  enfolded, 
Who  has  no  ears  to  hear  and  yet  heareth! 

COSMA 

Simple  words  speak  ye,  O  shepherd, 
And  repose  not  your  trust  in  me, 
But  in  the  holy  truth  only. 

[MALDE  and  ANNA  ONNA  awaken  and  lean 
upon  their  elbows  listening,  ,] 

AUGI 

Cosma,  this,  then,  is  the  holy  truth: 
I  turned  from  the  mountain  and  Puglia  valley 

90 


SCENE  L] 


OF    JORIO 


With  my  flock  on  the  day  Corpus  Domini, 
And  after  I  found  for  my  flock  good  shelter 
I  went  to  my  home  for  my  three  days'  resting. 
And  I  find  there  in  my  house  my  mother 
Who  says  unto  me:    "  Son  of  mine,  a  com- 
panion 
For    you    have    I    found."      Then    say    I: 

"  Mother, 

I  ever  obey  your  commandments."    She  an- 
swered : 

;  'T  is  well.    And  lo !   here  is  the  woman." 
We  were  espoused.   And  the  kindred  gathered, 
Escorting  the  bride  to  our  threshold. 
Aloof  I  stood  like  a  man  on  the  other 
Bank  of  a  river,  seeing  all  things  as  yonder, 
Afar,  past  the  water  flowing  between, 
The  water  that  flows  everlastingly. 
Cosma,  this  was  on  a  Sunday.    And  mingled 
With  my  wine  was  no  seed  of  the  poppy. 
Why  then,  notwithstanding,  did  slumber  pro- 
found 

My  heart  all  forgetting  o'erpower? 
I  believe  I  slept  years  seven  hundred. 

91 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTII. 

We  awoke  on  the  Monday  belated. 
Then  the  loaf  of  the  Bridal  my  mother 
Broke  over  the  head  of  a  weeping  virgin. 
Untouched  had  she  lain  by  me.    The  kindred 
Came  then  with  their  wheat  in  their  hampers. 
But   mute   stayed   I    wrapped   up    in   great 

sadness. 

As  one  in  the  shadow  of  death  I  was  dwelling. 
Behold  now!  on  a  sudden,  all  trembling, 
There  appeared  in  our  doorway  this  woman, 
Hard  pursuing  and  pressing  her,  reapers,  — 
Hounds !  that  wanted  to  seize  her  and  have  her. 
Then  implored  she  and  pleaded  for  safety. 
But  not  even  one  of  us,  Cosma, 
Moved,  except  one,  my  sister,  the  littlest, 
Who  dared  rush  to  the  door  and  bar  it. 
And  lo,  now  by  those  dogs  was  it  shaken, 
With  uttering  of  curses  and  threat'ning. 
And  in  hatred  against  this  sad  creature 
Were  their  foul  mouths  unleashed  and  barking. 
To  the  pack  would  the  women  have  tossed  her, 
But  she  trembling  still  by  the  hearthstone, 
Was  pleading  us  not  to  make  sacrifice  of  her. 

92 


SCEKEL]  OF         JORIO 

I,  too,  myself,  seized  her  with  hatred  and 
threat'ning, 

Though  it  seemed  to  me,  then,  I  was  drag- 
ging 

At  my  own  very  heart,  the  heart  of  my  child- 
hood. 

She  cried  out,  and  above  her  head  I  lifted 

My  sheep-hook  to  strike  her. 

Then  wept  my  sisters! 

,- 

Then  behind  her  beheld  I  the  angel  weeping! 
With  these  eyes,  O  saint,  the  angel  watching 

and  weeping  mutely. 

Down  on  my  knees  fell  I, 
Imploring  forgiveness.     And  then  to  punish 
This,  my  hand,  I  took  up  from  the  fireplace 
A  burning  ember. 

"  No,  do  not  burn  it," 
She  cried  aloud,  —  this  woman  cried  to  me. 
—  O   Cosma !   saint  holy,   with  waters   from 

snow-peaks 

Purified  are  you,  dawning  by  dawning; 
You,  too,  woman,  who  know  all  herbs  growing 
For  the  healing  of  flesh  that  is  mortal, 

93 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

Yea,  all  virtue  of  roots  that  are  secret; 

—  Malde,  you,  too,  with  that  branch  of  yours 

forking 

May  fathom  where  treasure  is  hidden, 
Entombed  at  the  feet  of  the  dead  now  dead 
For  a  hundred  years,  or  a  thousand  —  true  is 

it?- 
In  the  depths  of  the  depths  of  the  heart  of  the 

mountain. 

Of  ye  then,  I  ask,  of  ye  who  can  hear 
The  deep  things  within  that  come  from  afar, 
Whence  came  that  voice,  —  O  from  what  far 

distance 
That  came  and  that  spake  so  Aligi  should 

hear  it? 
(Oh,  answer  ye  me!)  —  When  she  said  unto 

me: 

"  And  how  then  your  flocks  can  you  pasture 
If  your  hand  is  infirm,  O  Aligi?  " 
Ah!   with  these  her  words  did  she  gather 
My  soul  from  my  body  within  me, 
Even  as  you,  O  woman,  gather  your  simples! 

[MiLA  weeps  silently.] 

94 

7      ' 


f 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

ANNA  ONNA 

There  's  an  herb  that  is  red  and  called  Glaspi, 

And  another  is  white  called  Egusa, 

And   the   one   and   the   other   grow   up    far 

apart, 

But  their  roots  grope  together  and  meet 
Underneath  the  blind  earth,  and  entwine 
So  closely  that  sever  them  never  could  ever 
Santa  Lucia.     Their  leaves  are  diverse, 
But  one  and  the  same  is  their  seven  years' 

flower. 

But  all  this  is  their  record  in  records. 
It  is  Cosma  who  knoweth  the  power  of  the 

Lord. 

ALIGI 

Heed  me  then,  Cosma!    The  slumber  of  for- 

getfulness 

Was  by  Commandment  sent  to  my  pillow. 
By  whom?    Closed  by  the  hand  of  Innocence 
Was  the  door  of  Safety.     Came  to  me  the 

apparition  — 
The   Angel   of   Counsel.     And   out   of   the 

word 

95 


THE    DAUGHTER        [Acrii. 

Of  her  mouth  was  created  the  pledge  eternal. 
Who  then  was  my  wife,  before  ever 
Good  wheat,  holy  loaf,  or  fair  flower? 

COSMA 

0  shepherd  Aligi!    God's  are  the  just  steel- 
yards of  Justice. 

God's  only  is  the  just  balance  of  Justice. 

Notwithstanding,  O  take  ye  counsel, 

From  the  Angel  of  Counsel,  who  gave  you 

your  surety. 

Yea,  take  pledge  of  him  for  this  stranger. 
But  she  left  untouched,  where  is  she? 

ALIGI 

For  the  sheepstead  I  left  after  vespers, 
On  the  eve  of  Santo  Giovanni. 

At  daybreak 

1  found  myself  wending  above  Capracinta. 
On  the  crest  I  awaited  the  sunrise, 

And  I  saw  in  the  disc  of  its  blazing 
The  bleeding  head  that  was  severed. 

To  my  sheepf  old 
96 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

Then  came  I, — and  again  I  began  —  guarding 

my  sheep  —  to  suffer 

For  me  seemed  that  sleep  still  overwhelmed  me, 
And  my  flock  on  my  life's  force  was  browsing. 
Oh!  why  still  was  my  heart  heavy  laden? 
O  Cosma!  first  saw  I  the  shadow, 
Then  the  figure,  there,  there,  at  the  entrance, 
On  the  morning  of  San  Teobaldo. 
On  the  rock  out  there  was  sitting  this  woman, 
And  she  did  not  arise  for  she  could  not, 
So  sore  were  her  feet  and  bleeding. 

Said  she:  "Aligi, 
Do  you  know  me?  " 

I  answered :    "  Thou  art  Mila." 
And  no  word  more  we  spoke,  for  no  more 

were  we 

Twain.    Nor  on  that  day  were  contaminated 
Nor  after,  ever. 

I  speak  but  the  truth. 

COSMA 

O  shepherd  Aligi!    You  have  verily  lighted 
A  holy  lamp  in  your  darkness. 
~7~  97 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrn. 

Yet  it  is  not  enkindled  in  limits  appointed, 
Chosen  out  of  old  time  by  your  fathers. 
You  have  moved  farther  off  the  Term  Sacred. 
How  then  if  the  lamp  were  spent  and  were 

quenched? 

For  wisdom  is  in  man's  heart  a  well-spring 
Profound;   but  only  the  pure  man  may  draw 

of  its  waters. 

ALIGI 

Now  pray  I  great  God  that  He  place  upoa 

us 

The  seal  of  the  Sacrament  eternal! 
See  ye  this  that  I  do?    Not  hand  but  soul 
Is  carving  this  wood  in  the  similitude 
Of  the  Angel  apparition.    I  began 
On  the  Day  of  Assumption.    Rosary  time 
Shall  it  be  finished.    This  my  design  is: 
On  to  Rome  with  my  flock  I  shall  wander, 
And  along  with  me  carry  my  Angel, 
On  mule-back  laden.     I  will  go  to  the  Holy 

Father, 

In  the  name  of  San  Pietro  Celestino, 

98 


Sara  U  OF      JORIO 

Who  upon  Mount  Morrone  did  penance. 
I  shall  go  to  the  Shepherd  of  shepherds, 
With  this  votive  offering,  humbly  imploring 
Indulgence,  that  the  bride,  yet  untouched,  may 

return 

To  her  mother,  set  free  thus  and  blameless; 
Then  as  mine  I  may  cherish  this  stranger, 
Who  knows  well  how  to  weep  all  unheeded.  / 
So  now  I  ask  this  of  your  deep-reaching  wis- 
dom, 
Cosma;  will  this  grace  unto  me  be  conceded? 

COSMA 

All  the  ways  of  mankind  appear  the  direct 
ways 

To  man:  but  the  Lord  God  is  weighing  heart- 
secrets. 

High  the  walls,  high  the  walls  of  man's  strong- 
hold, 

Huge  are  its  portals  of  iron;  and  around  and 
around  it 

Heavy  the  shade  of  tombs  where  grass  grows 
pallid. 

99 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrii. 

Let  not  your  lamb  browse  upon  that  grass 

grown  pallid, 

i  c  ^  J 

O  shepherd  Aligi,  best  question  the  mother. 


A  VOICE  [calling  outside] 

Cosma,  Cosma!    If  you  are  within,  come  forth! 

COSMA 

Who  is  calling  for  me?    Did  you  hear  a  voice 
calling? 

THE  VOICE 

Come   forth,    Cosma,   by   the   blood   that   is 

holy! 
O  Christian  brothers,  the  sign  of  the  cross 

make  ye! 

COSMA 

Behold  me.    Who  calls  me?    Who  wants  me? 

[At  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  two  shepherds 
appear.,  wearing  sheep-skin  coats  ,  holding  a 
gaunt  and  sickly  youth  whose  arms  are  bound 
to  his  body  with  several  turns  of  a  rope.'] 

100 


SCENBl.]  OF        JORIO 

FIRST  SHEPHERD 

O  Christian  brothers!    The  sign  of  the  cross 

make  ye! 

May  the  Lord  from  the  enemy  keep  you! 
And  to  guard  well  the  door  say  a  prayer. 

SECOND  SHEPHERD 

O  Cosma,  this  youth  is  possessed  of  a  demon. 
Now  for  three  days  the  devil  has  held  him. 
Behold,  O  behold  how  he  tortures  him  now. 
He  froths  at  the  mouth,  turning  livid  and 

shrieking. 
With  strong  ropes  we  needed  to  tie  and  bind 

him 
To  bring  him  to  you.    You  who  freed  before 

now 

Bartolomeo  dei  Cionco  ala  Petrara,  do  you, 
O    wise    man    of    mercy,    do    you    this    one 

also 
Liberate!     Force  now   the   demon   to   leave 

him! 
O  chase  him  away  from  him,  cure  him  and  heal 

him! 

101 


THE    DAUGHTER 

COSMA 

What  is  his  name  and  the  name  of  his  father? 

FIRST  SHEPHERD 

Salvestro,  di  Mattia  di  Simeone. 

COSMA 

Salvestro,  how  then,  you  will  to  be  healed? 
Be  of  good  heart,  my  son,  O  be  trustful! 
Lo!    I  say  unto  you,  fear  not! 

And  ye 

Wherefore  have  ye  bound  him?    Let  him  be 
free! 

SECOND  SHEPHERD 

Come  with  us  then  to  the  chapel,  Cosma. 
There  we  can  let  him  be  free.   He  would  flee 

away,  here. 

He  is  frantic  always,  for  escape  ever  ready. 
And  sudden  to  take  it.    He  's  frothing.    Come 

on  then! 

COSMA 

That  will  I,  God  helping.    Be  of  good  heart, 
my  son! 

102 


Son  1.1  OF      JORIO 

[The  two  shepherds  carry  the  youth  of. 
MALDE  and  ANNA  ONNA  follow  them  for 
awhile,  then  halt,,  gazing  after  them,  MALDE 
with  a  forked  olive  branch  with  a  small  ball  of 
wax  stuck  on  at  the  larger  end,  the  old  woman 
leaning  on  her  crutch  and  with  her  bag  of 
simples  hanging  in  front.  Finally  they  also 
disappear  from  sight.  The  saint  from  the 
doorway  turns  back  toward  his  host.] 

COSMA 

I  go  in  God's  peace,  shepherd  Aligi. 

For  the  comfort  I  found  in  your  cavern, 

May  you  be  blessed!     Lo!    now  they  called 
unto  me 

And  therefore  I  answered.    Before  you  may 
enter 

Upon  your  new  way,  the  old  laws  well  consider. 

Who  will  change  the  old  ways  shall  be  win- 
nowed. 

See  ye  guard  well  your  father's  commandment. 

See  ye  heed  well  your  mother's  instruction. 

Hold  them  ever  steadfast  in  your  bosom. 

103 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTII. 

And  God  guide  your  feet,  that  you  may  not 

be  taken 
In  lariats  nor  into  live  embers  stumble! 

ALIGI 

Cosma,  quite  well  have  you  heard  me?    That 

I  remain  sinless. 

Never  I  tainted  myself  but  kept  good  faith, 
Quite  well  have  you  heard  of  the  sign  God 

Almighty 

Has  revealed  me  and  sent  here  unto  me? 
I  await  what  will  come,  my  flesh  mortifying. 

COSMA 

I  say  unto  you:   Best  question  your  parents 
Ere  you  lead  to  your  roof-tree  this  stranger. 

A  VOICE  [calling  from  outside] 

Cosma,  don't  delay  longer!    Surely  'twill  kill 
him. 

COSMA  [turning  to  MILA] 

Peace  unto  you,  woman!    If  good  be  within 
you 

104 


SCENEI.]  OF        JORIO 

Let  it  pour  forth  from  you  like  tears  falling 
Without  being  heard.     I  may  soon  return. 

ALIGI 

I  come.    I  follow.    Not  all  have  I  told  you. 

MILA 

Aligi,  't  is  true :  not  all  are  you  telling ! 

Go  to  the  roadside.     The  cross-bearer  watch 

for 
And  implore  him  to  carry  the  message. 

[The  saint  goes  off  over  the  pasture  land. 
The  singing  of  the  pilgrims  is  heard  from  time 
to  time.] 

MILA 

Aligi,  Aligi:  Not  all  did  we  tell! 

Yet  better  it  were  that  my  mouth  were  choked 

up, 

Better  that  stones  and  that  ashes 
Held  me  speechless.    Hear  then  this  only 
From  me,  Aligi.    I  have  done  you  no  evil; 
And  none  shall  I  do  you.     Healed  and  re- 
stored now 

105 


THE    DAUGHTER      [ACTIL 

Are  my  feet.     And  I  know  well  the  path- 
ways. 

Now  arrived  is  the  hour  of  departure 
For  the  daughter  of  Jorio.    Now  then  so  be  it! 

ALIGI 

I  know  not,  you  know  not  what  hour  may  be 

coming. 

Replenish  the  oil  in  our  lamp  of  the  Virgin, 
Take  the  oil  from  the  skin.  Some  yet  is  within 
And  wait  for  me  here.  I  .seek  the  cross-bearer, 
Right  well  what  to  say  unto  him  know  I. 

MELA 

Aligi,  brother  of  mine!    Give  me  your  hand, 
now! 

ALIGI 

Mila,  the  road  is  but  there,  not  far  away. 

MILA 

Give  me  that  hand  of  yours,  so  I  may  kiss  it. 
'T  is  the  drop  that  I  yield  to  my  thirst. 

106 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

ALIGI  [coming  closer] 

With  the  ember  I  wanted  to  burn  it,  Mila, 
This  sinful  hand  that  sought  to  offend  you. 

MELA 

All  that  I  forget.    I  am  only  the  woman 

You  found  on  the  rock  there  seated, 

By  who  knows  what  roads  coming  hither! 

ALIGI  [coming  again  close] 

Upon  your  face  your  tears  are  not  drying, 
Dear  woman.    A  tear  is  now  staying 
On  the  eyelashes,  while  you  speak  trembles, 
and  falls  not. 

MILA 

Over  us  hovers  deep   stillness.     Aligi,   just 

listen! 
Hushed  is  the  singing.    With  the  grasses  and 

snow-peaks 
We  are  alone,  brother  mine,  we  are  alone. 

ALIGI 

Mila,   now   you   are   unto   me   as   you   first 
were 

107 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrn. 

Out  there  on  the  rock,  when  you  were  all 
smiling, 

With  your  eyes  all  shining,  your  feet  all  bleed- 
ing. 

MELA 

And  you,  —  you,  —  are  you  not  now  the  one 

who  was  kneeling,  — 
Who  the  flowrets  of  Santo  Giovanni 
Put  down  on  the  ground?    Ah!  by  one  were 

they  gathered 
Who  bears  them  yet,  wears  them  yet  —  in  her 

scapulary. 

AUGI 

Mila,  there  is  in  your  voice  a  vibration 
That  while  it  consoles  me,  it  saddens. 
As  even  October,  when,  all  my  flocks  with  me, 
I  border  the  bordering  stretches  of  seashore. 

MILA 

To  border  them  with  you,  the  shore  and  the 
mountain 

Ah !  I  would  that  that  fate  were  my  fate  ever- 
more. 

108 


SCENEI.]  OF        JORIO 

AUGI 

O  my  love,  be  preparing  for  such  wayfaring! 
Though  the  road  there  be  long,  for  that  is 
Love  strong. 

MILA 

Aligi,  I  'd  pass  there  through  fires  ever  flam- 
ing, 
Onward  still  wending  by  roads  never  ending. 

ALIGI 

To  cull  on  the  hill-top  the  blue  gentian  lonely, 
On  the  seashore  only  the  star-fish  flower. 

MILA 

There  on  my  knees  would  I  drag  myself  on, 
Placing  them  down  on  the  tracks  you  were 
marking. 

ALIGI 

Think,  too,  of  the  places  to  rest  when  the  night 

should  o'ertake  us, 
And  the  mint  and  the  thyme  that  would  be 

your  pillows. 

109 


THE    DAUGHTER 

MJLA 

I  cannot  think.    No.    Yet  give  leave  this  one 

night  more 
That  I  live  with  you,  here,  where  you  are  here 

breathing, 

That  I  hear  you  asleep  and  he  with  you, 
And  over  you  keep,  like  your  dogs,  faithful 

vigil! 

ALIGI 

O,  you  know,  O,  you  know  what  must  await  us. 
How  with  you  must  I  ever  divide  the  bread, 

salt,  and  water. 

And  so  shall  I  share  with  you  also  the  pallet, 
Unto  death  and  eternity.    Give  me  your  hands  I 

[They  grasp  each  other's  hands,  gazing 
into  each  other's  eyes.'] 

MILA 

Ah!  we  tremble,  we  tremble.    You  are  frigid, 
Aligi.     You  are  blanching.     O  whither 
Is  flowing  the  blood  your  face  loses? 

[She  frees  herself  and  touches  his  face  with 
both  hands.] 

110 


]  OF    JORIO 

ALIGI 

O  Mila,  Mila,  I  hear  a  great  thundering, 
All  the  mountain  is  shaking  and  sinking, 
Where  are  you?     Where  are  you?     All  is 
veiled. 

[He  stretches  out,  his  hand  toward  her  as 
one  tottering.  They  kiss  each  other.  They 
fall  down  upon  their  knees,,  facing  each  other.} 

MILA 
Have  mercy  upon  us,  blessed  Virgin! 

ALIGI 

Have  mercy  upon  us,  O  Christ  Jesus! 

[A  deep  silence  follows.'} 

A  VOICE  [outside} 

Shepherd,  ho!     You  are  wanted,  and  in  a 

hurry. 
A  black  sheep  has  broken  his  shank. 

[ALIGI  rises  totteringly  and  goes  toward 
thfi  entrance.} 

ill 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

You  are  wanted  at  once  and  must  hurry, 

And  there  is  a  woman  I  know  not. 

On  her  head  is  a  basket.    For  you  she  is  asking. 

[AxiGi  turns  his  head  and  looks  toward 
MILA  with  an  all-embracing  glance.  She  is 
still  on  her  knees.'] 

ALIGI  [in  a  whisper} 

Mila,  replenish  the  oil  in  our  lamp  of  the 
Virgin, 

So  it  go  not  out.     See,  it  barely  is  burning. 

Take  the  oil  from  the  skin.    Some  yet  is  within. 

And  await  me.  I  only  must  go  to  the  sheep- 
fold. 

Fear  nothing,  for  God  is  forgiving. 

Because  we  trembled  will  Mary  forgive  us. 

Replenish  the  oil  and  pray  her  for  mercy. 

[He,  goes  out  into  the  fields.] 

MIIA 

O  Holy  Virgin!    Grant  me  this  mercy: 
That  I  may  stay  here  with  my  face  to  earth 
bowed, 

112 


SCENE  I.]  OF         JORIO 

Cold  here,  that  I  may  be  found  dead  here, 
That  I  may  be  removed  hence  for  burial. 
No  trespass  there  was  in  thine  eyesight. 
No  trespass  there  was.     For  Thou  unto  us 

wert  indulgent. 

The  lips  did  no  trespass.     (To  bear  witness 
There  wert  Thou!)     The  lips  did  no  trespass. 
So  under  Thine  eyes  I  may  die  here,  die  here! 
For  strength  have  I  none  to  leave  here,  O 

Mother! 

Yet  remain  with  him  here  Mila  cannot ! 
Mother  clement!    I  was  never  sinful, 
But  a  well-spring  tramped  on  and  trodden. 
Shamed  have  I  been  in  the  eyes  of  Heaven, 
But  who  took  away  from  my  memory 
This  shame  of  mine  if  not  Thou,  Mary? 
Born  anew  then  was  I  when  love  was  born 

in  me. 

Thou  it  was  willed  it,  O  faithful  Virgin! 
All  the  veins  of  this  new  blood  spring  from 

afar, 

Spring  from  far  off,  from  the  far,  far  away, 
From  the  depths  of  the  earth  where  she  rests, 
s  113 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTn. 

'She  who  nourished  me  once  in  days  long  ago, 
long  ago. 

Let  it  also  be  she  who  bears  now  for  me 

i  _    witness 

Of  innocency!  Madonna,  Thou  also  bore 
witness ! 

The  lips  did  no  trespass  here  now  (Thou  wert 
witness), 

No,  there  was  none  in  the  lips,  no,  in  the  lips 
there  was  none. 

And  if  I  trembled,  O  let  me  bear  that  tres- 
pass, 

'Bear  ever  that  tremor  with  me  beyond! 

Here  I  close  up  within  me  my  eyes  with  my 
fingers. 

[With  the  index  and  middle  finger  of  each 
hand  she  presses  her  eyes,  bowing  her  head  to 
the  earth.] 

Death  do  I  feel.    Now  do  I  feel  it  draw  closer. 
The  tremor  increaseth.     Yet  not  the  heart 
ceaseth. 

[Rising  impetuously. ~\ 
114 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

Ah,  wretch  that  I  am,  that  which  was  told  me 
,To  do,  I  did  not,  though  thrice  did  he  say  it: 
"  Replenish  the  oil."    And  lo!  now  't  is  dying! 

[She  goes  toward  the  oil-skin  hanging  from 
a  beam,  with  her  eye  still  watching  the  dying 
flame,  endeavoring  to  keep  it  alive  with  the 
murmured  prayer:} 

Ave  Maria,  gratia  plena,  Dominus  tecum. 
(Hail,  Mary,  full  of  grace,  the  Lord  be  with 
thee.) 

[Opening  the  skin,  it  flattens  in  her  hands. 
She  searches  for  the  flask  to  draw  off  the  oil, 
but  is  able  to  get  but  one  or  two  drops.~\ 

'Tis  empty!    'Tis  empty!    But  three  drops, 

Virgin, 

For  my  unction  extreme  prithee  be  given  me, 
But  two  for  my  hands,  for  my  lips  the  other, 
And  all  for  my  soul,  all  the  three! 
For  how  can  I  live  when  back  he  returns  here, 
What  can  I  say,  Mother,  what  can  I  say? 
Surely  then  he  will  see,  or  ere  he  see  me, 
How  the  lamp  has  gone  out.    If  my  loving 

115 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTII. 

Sufficed  not  to  keep  the  flame  burning, 
How  pale  unto  him  will  this  love  of  mine, 
Mother,  appear! 

[Again  she  tries  the  skin,  looking  again  for 
other  receptacles.,  upsetting  everything  and 
still  murmuring  prayers.] 

Cause  it  to  burn,  O  Mother  intrepid! 

But  a  little  while  longer,  as  much  longer  only 

As  an  Ave  Maria,  a  Salve 

Regina,  O  Mother  of  Mercy,  of  Pity ! 

[In  the  frenzy  of  her  search  she  goes  to 
the  entrance  and  hears  a  step  and  catches  sight 
of  a  shadow.  She  calls  aloud.~\ 

O  woman,  good  woman,  Christian  sister, 
Come  you  hither !  and  may  the  Lord  bless  you ! 
Come  you  hither !   For  mayhap  the  Lord  sends 

you. 

What  bear  you  in  your  basket?    If  a  little 
Oil,  oh,  then  of  your  charity,  give  me  a  little! 
Pray  enter  and  take  of  all  these  your  free 

choice, 

These  ladles,  spindles,  mortars,  distaffs,  any  I 

116 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

For  need  that  there  is  here  for  Our  Lady, 
To  replenish  the  oil  in  her  lamp  there  hanging 
And  not  to  quench  it;  if  through  me  it  be 

quenched, 

I  shall  lose  sight  of  the  way  to  Heaven. 
Christian  woman,  grasp  you  my  meaning? 
Will  you  to  me  do  this  loving  kindness? 

[The  woman  appears  at  the  entrance,  her 
head  and  face  covered  with  a  black  mantle. 
She  takes  down  the  basket  from  her  head  with- 
out a  word  and  placing  it  on  the  ground  re- 
moves the  cloth,  takes  out  the  phial  of  oil  and 
offers  it  to  MELA.] 

MILA 

Ah!   be  thou  blessed,  be  thou  blessed!   Lord 

God 

Reward  thee  on  earth,  and  in  Heaven  also! 
You  have  some!    You  have  some!    In  mourn- 
ing are  you; 

But  the  Madonna  will  grant  it  to  you 
To  see  again  the  face  of  your  lost  one,  — 
All  for  this  deed  of  your  charity  done  me. 

117 


THE    DAUGHTER 

[She  takes  the  phial  and  turns  anxiously 
to  go  to  the  dying  lamp.} 

Ah!    perdition  upon  me!     'Tis  quenched. 

[The  phial  falh  from  her  hand  and  breaks. 
For  a  few  seconds  she  remains  motionless, 
stunned  with  the  terrible  omen.  The  woman 
leaning  down  to  the  spilled  oil  touches  it  with 
her  fingers  and  crosses  herself.  MILA  regards 
the  woman  with  utter  sadness  and  the  resigna- 
tion of  despair  makes  her  voice  hollow  and 

slow.'} 

MELA 

Pardon  me,  pardon,  Christian  pilgrim, 

This  your  charity  turned  to  nothing. 

The  oil  wasted,  broken  in  pieces  the  phial, 

Misfortune  upon  me  befallen. 

Tell  me  what  choose  you  ?   All  these  things  here 

Were  fashioned  out  thus  by  the  shepherd. 

A  new  distaff  and  with  it  a  spindle 

Wish  you?    Or  wish  you  a  mortar  and  pestle? 

Tell  me,  I  pray.     For  nothing  know  I  any 

more. 

I  am  one  of  the  lost  in  the  earth  beneath. 

118 


SCENEI.1  OF         JORIO 

THE  CLOAKED  ONE 

Daughter  of  Jorio !    I  have  come  unto  you, 
To  you,  bringing  here,  thus,  this  basket, 
So  I  a  boon  may  beseech  of  you. 

MTTA 

Ah!   heavenly  voice  that  I  ever 

In  the  deeps  of  my  soul  have  been  hearing! 

THE  CLOAKED  ONE 

To  you  come  I  from  Acquanova. 

MTT.A 
Ornella,  Ornella  art  thou! 

[ORNELLA  uncovers  her  face.'] 

ORNELLA 

The  sister  am  I  of  Aligi; 
The  daughter  am  I  of  Lazaro. 

MTT.A 

I  kiss  your  two  feet  with  humility, 
That  have  carried  you  here  to  me 

119 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrn. 

So  that  again  your  dear  face  I  behold 
This  hour,  this  last  hour  of  my  mortal  suf- 
fering. 

To  give  me  pity  you  were  the  first  one, 
You  are  now,  too,  the  last  one,  Ornellal 

ORNELLA 

If  I  was  the  first,  penitence 
Great  I  have  suffered.     I  am  telling 
The  truth  to  you,  Mila  di  Codra. 
And  still  is  my  suffering  bitter. 

MTT.A 

Oh!   your  voice  in  its  sweetness  is  quivering. 
In  the  wound  doth  the  knife  that  hurts  quiver. 
And  much  more,  ah!    more  doth  it  quiver 
And  you  do  not  yet  know  that,  Ornella! 

ORNELLA 

If  only  you  knew  this  my  sorrow! 
If  only  you  knew  how  much  sadness 
The  small  kindness  I  did  for  you  caused  me! 
From  my  home  that  is  left  desolated 
I  come,  where  we  weep  and  are  perishing. 

120 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

MILA 

Why  thus  are  you  vested  in  mourning? 
Who  is  dead  then?    You  do  not  answer. 
Mayhap  —  mayhap  —  the  newly  come  sister? 

ORNELLA 

Ah!     She  is  the  one  you  wish  perished! 

MILA 

No,  no.    God  is  my  witness.    I  feared  it, 
And  the  fear  of  it  seized  me  within  me. 
Tell  me,  tell  me.    Who  is  it?    Answer, 
For  God's  sake  and  for  your  own  soul's  sake! 

ORNELLA 

Not  one  of  us  yet  has  been  taken; 
But  all  of  us  there  are  still  mourning 
The  dear  one  who  leaves  us  abandoned 
And  gives  himself  up  to  his  ruin. 
If  you  could  behold  the  forsaken  one, 
If  our  mother  you  could  but  behold, 
You  would  quiver  indeed.     Unto  us 
Come  is  the  Summer  of  blackness,  come  is 

121 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACID. 

The  Autumn  bitter,  oppressive, 
And  never  a  circling  twelvemonth's  season 
Could  be  unto  us  so  saddening.    Surely, 
When  I  shut  to  the  door  to  help  you  and  save 

you 

And  gave  myself  up  to  my  ruin, 
You  did  not  then  seem  to  me  so  unfeeling,  — 
You  who  implored  for  compassion's  sake, — 
You  who  sought  my  name  of  me 
That  you  might  in  your  blessings  whisper  it! 
But  since  then  my  name  is  shadowed  in  shame. 
Every  night,  every  day  in  our  household, 
I  am  railed  upon,  shunned,  cast  away. 
They  single  me  out.    They,  pointing,  cry  out: 
"Lo!   that  is  the  one,  behold  her, 
Who  put  up  the  bars  of  the  entrance 
So  that  evil  within  might  stay  safely 
And  hide  at  its  ease  by  the  hearthstone." 
I  cannot  stay  longer.    Thus  say  I :  "  Far  rather 
Hew  at  me,  all,  with  your  knife-blades 
And  carve  me  to  shreds  and  cut  me!"    This 

now 

Is  your  blessing,  Mila  di  Codra! 

122 


]  OF    JORIO 

MTTA 

It  is  just,  it  is  just  that  you 
Strike  me  thus!    Just  is  it  that  you 
Make  my  lips  drink  thus  deep  of  this  bitter- 
ness! 

With  such  sorrow  be  accompanied 
All  these  my  sins  to  the  world  that 's  beyond! 
Mayhap,  mayhap,  then,  the  stones  and  the 

heather 

And  the   stubble,   the  woodblock   dumb,  un- 
feeling, 

Shall  speak  for  me,  —  the  angel  here  silent, 
That  your  brother  is  calling  to  life  in  the  block 

there, 

And  the  Virgin  bereft  of  her  lamplight. 
These  shall  all  speak  for  me :    but  I  —  I  — 
shall  speak  not! 

ORNELLA 

Dear  woman,  indeed  how  around  you 
Your  soul  is  your  body's  vestment, 
And  how  I  may  touch  it,  outstretching 
Towards  you  thus  my  hand  with  all  faith. 

123 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

How  then  did  you  do  so  much  evil 

To  harm  us  so  much  —  us  —  God's  people? 

If  you  could  behold  our  Vienda, 

Quiver,  indeed,  would  you.     For  shortly  the 

skin  will 

Over  the  bones  part  in  twain  for  its  dryness, 
And  the  lips  of  her  mouth  are  grown  whiter 
Than  within  her  white  mouth  her  white  teeth 

are; 

So  that  when  the  first  rain  came  falling, 
Saturday,  Mamma,  seeing  her,  said  of  her, 
Weeping:   "  Lo,  now!    Lo,  now!  she  will  be 

leaving, 

She  will  break  with  the  moisture  and  vanish." 
Yet  my  father  laments  not;   his  bitterness 
He  chews  upon  hard  without  weeping. 
Envenomed  within  him  the  iron, 
The  wound  in  his  flesh  is  like  poison 
(San  Cresidio  and  San  Rocca  guard  us!) 
The  swelling  leaves  only  the  mouth  free 
To  bark  at  us  daily  and  nightly. 
In  his  frenzy  his  curses  were  fearful,  — 
The  roof  of  the  house  with  them  shaking, 

124 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

And  with  them  our  hearts  quaking.     Dear 

woman, 
Your  teeth  are   chattering.     Have  you  the 

fever, 
That  you  shiver  thus  and  you  tremble? 

MILA 

Always  at  twilight  and  sunset, 

A  tremor  of  cold  overtakes  me 

Not  strong  am  I  in  the  nights  on  the  mountain, 

We  light  fires  at  this  time  in  the  valley, 

But  speak  on  and  heed  not  my  suffering. 

ORNELLA 

Yesterday,  by  chance,  I  discovered 
He  had  it  in  mind  to  climb  up  here,  — 
This  mountain  to  climb,  to  the  sheepstead. 
I  failed  through  the  evening  to  see  him, 
And  my  blood  turned  cold  within  me. 
So  then  I  made  ready  this  basket, 
And  in  this  my  sisters  aided  me,  — 
We  are  three  who  are  born  of  one  mother,  — 
All  three  of  us  born  marked  with  sorrow; 

125 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrn. 

And  this  morning  I  left  Acquanova, 

I  crossed  by  the  ferry  the  river, 

And  the  path  to  the  mountain  ascended. 

Ah!   you  dear,  dear  creature  of  Jesus! 

With  what  illness  now  are  you  taken? 

How  can  I  bear  all  this  sorrow? 

What  can  I  be  doing  for  you? 

You  far  more  violently  tremble 

Than  when  you  sought  our  fireplace 

And  the  pack  of  the  reapers  were  hunting  you. 

MILA 

And  since  —  Oh!    since  have  you  seen  him? 

Know  you 

If  yet  he  has  come  to  the  sheepstead? 
Be  certain,  Ornella,  be  certain! 

ORNELLA 

Not  again  have  I  seen  him.     Nor  yet 
Do  I  know  if  he  came  up  the  mountain,  — 
Since  much  did  he  have  for  the  doing 
At  Gionco.     Perhaps  he  came  not. 
So  do  not  be  frightened!    But  hear  me, 

126 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

And  heed  me.    For  your  soul's  sake, 

To  save  it,  now,  Mila  di  Codra, 

Repent  ye  and  take  ye,  I  prithee, 

Away  from  us  this  evil  doing! 

Restore  us  Aligi,  and  may  God  go  with  you, 

And  may  He  have  mercy  upon  you! 

MTT.A 

Dear  sister  of  Aligi!    Content  am  I, — 
Yea,  always  to  hear  and  to  heed  you. 
Just  is  it  that  you  strike  me,  — 
Me,  the  sinful  woman,  me,  the  sorcerer's 
Daughter,  the  witch  who  is  shameless,  — 
Who  for  charity  supplicated 
The  journeying  pilgrim  of  Jesus 
But  a  little  oil  to  give  her 
To  feed  her  sacred  lamp-flame! 
Perhaps  behind  me  the  Angel  is  weeping 
Again  as  before;   and  the  stones  perhaps 
Will  speak  for  me,  but  I  —  shall  speak  not  — 
Shall  speak  not.    But  this  say  I  only 
In  the  name  of  sister,  and  if  I  say  not 
In  truth,  may  my  mother  arise 

127 


THE    DAUGHTER       Ucrii. 

From  her  grave,  my  hair  grasping, 

And  cast  me  upon  the  black  earth,  bearing 

Witness  against  her  own  daughter. 

Only  say  I :   I  am  sinless  before  your  brother, 

Before  the  pallet  of  your  brother  clean  am  1 1 

ORNELLA 

Omnipotent  God!    A  miracle  dost  Thou  I 

MILA 

But  this  is  the  loving  of  Mila. 

This  is  but  my  love,  Ornella. 

And  more  than  this  I  shall  speak  not. 

Contented  am  I  to  obey  you. 

All  paths  knows  the  daughter  of  Jorio, 

Already  her  soul  ere  your  coming 

Had  started,  —  ere  now,  O  Innocent  One! 

Do  not  distrust  me,  O  sister 

Of  Aligi,  for  no  cause  is  there. 

ORNELLA 

Firm  as  the  rock  my  faith  is  in  you. 
Brow  unto  brow  have  I  seen  in  you 

128 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

Truth.    And  the  rest  lies  in  darkness, 
That  I,  poor  one,  may  not  fathom. 
But  I  kiss  your  feet  here  humbly, 
The  feet  that  know  well  the  pathways. 
And  my  silent  love  and  pity 
Will  companion  you  on  your  journey. 
I  will  pray  that  the  steps  of  your  pathway 
Be  lessened,  the  pain  of  them  softened. 
And  the  pain  that  I  feel  and  I  suffer 
On  your  head  I  shall  lay  it  no  longer. 
No  more  shall  I  judge  your  misfortunes, 
No  more  shall  I  judge  of  your  loving, 
Since  before  my  dear  brother  sinless 
Are  you,  in  my  heart  I  shall  call  you 
My  sister,  my  sister  in  exile.    At  dawning 
My  dreams  shall  meet  you  and  often  shall 
greet  you. 

MTT.A 

Ah,  in  my  grave  were  I  resting, 
With  the  black  earth  close  to  me  nestling, 
And  in  my  ears,  in  that  grave  lonely, 
These  words  were  the  last  words  sounding,  — 
Their  promise  of  peace  my  life  rounding! 
o  129 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

ORNELLA 

For  your  life  I  have  spoken,  I  witness. 
And  food  and  drink  to  restore  you,  — 
That  at  least  for  the  first  of  your  journey, 
You  may  not  lack  something  of  comfort, — 
For  you  I  prepared  in  this  basket; 
Bread  placing  in  it  and  wine  (the  oil  is  now 
Gone!)   but  I  did  not  place  there  a  flower. 
Forgive  me  for  that,  since  then  I  knew  not  — 

MILA 

A  blue  flower,  a  flower  of  the  blue  aconite  — 
You  did  not  place  that  in  your  basket  for  me! 
And  you  did  not  place  there  the  white  sheet 

severed 

From  the  cloth  in  your  loom  at  home  woven 
That  I  saw  'twixt  the  doorway  and  fireplace! 

ORNELLA 

Mila!    for  that  hour  wait  on  the  Saviour. 
But  what  still  keeps  my  brother?    Vainly 
I  sought  him  at  the  sheepfold.     Oh!    where 
is  he? 

130 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

MILA 

He  will  be  back  again  ere  nightfall  surely. 
Needs  be  that  I  hasten!     O,  needs  be! 

ORNELLA 

Do  you  mean  not  to  see  him  —  speak  again 

to  him? 

Where  then  will  you  go  for  this  night?    Re- 
main here. 

I,  too,  will  remain.     Thus  doing  shall  we 
Be  together,  and  strong  against  sorrow, 
We  three —     Till  you  go  at  daybreak 
On  your  path,  and  we  go  upon  our  path. 

MILA 

But  already  too  long  are  the  nights.    Needs  be 
That  I  hasten,  —  hasten!     You  know  not. 
I  will  tell  you.    Also  from  him  I  received 
The  parting  that 's  not  to  be  given 
A  second  time.     Addio!     Go,  seek  him, 
And  meet  him,  now,  in  the  sheepfold,  surely. 
Detain  him  there  longer,  and  tell  him 
All  the  grief  that  they  suffer  down  there, 

131 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTIL 

And  let  him  not  follow  me!     On  my  path- 
way 

Unknown,  I  shall  soon  be.    Rest  you  blessed! 
Forever  rest  blessed!     O,  be  you  as  sweet 
Unto  his  as  you  were  to  my  sorrow! 
Addio!     Ornella,  Ornella,  Ornella! 

[While  speaking  thus,  she  retires  toward 
the  darkness  of  the  cavern  and  ORNELLA, 
softened  to  tears,  passes  out.  The  old  herb- 
woman  then  appears  at  the  opening  of  the 
cavern.  The  singing  of  the  pilgrims  may  still 
be  heard,  but  from  a  greater  distance.  ANNA 
ONNA  enters,  leaning  on  her  crutch  with  her 
bag  hanging  by  her  side.] 

ANNA  [breathless] 

'Has  freed  him,  freed  him,  woman  of  the  valley, 
'Has  freed  him!    Ay!   from  inside  him 
Chased  away  all  the  demons  did  he  — 
Cosma  —  that  possessed  him.    A  saint,  surely. 
He  gave  out  a  great  cry  like  a  bull's  roar,  — 
Did  the  youth,  and  at  one  blow  fell  down 
As  if  he  had  burst  his  chest  open. 

132 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

You  didn't  —  don't  say  you  couldn't  —  hear 
him? 

And  now  on  the  grass  he  is  sleeping. 

Deeply,  deeply  is  he  sleeping;  and  the  shep- 
herds 

Stand  around  and  keep  watch  o'er  him. 

But  where  are  you?    I  do  not  see  you. 

MTTA 

Anna  Onna,  put  me  to  sleep! 

O  Granny  dear,  I  '11  give  you  this  basket 

That  is  brimful  of  eating  and  drinking. 

ANNA 

Who  was  she  that  went  away  hurrying? 
Had  she  broken  your  heart  that  you  cried  so? 
—  That  after  her,  so,  you  were  calling? 

MTTA 

Granny,  oh,  listen !  This  basket  I  '11  give  you, 
That  one  on  the  ground,  to  take  with  you,  — 
If  you  '11  put  me  to  sleep,  —  make  me  go,  — 

133 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrn. 

To  sleep,  with  the  little  black  seeds  —  you 

know  — 
Of  the  hyoscyamus.    Go  off  then!   be  eating 

and  drinking  1 

ANNA 

I  have  none.    I  have  none  left  in  my  bag  here! 

MILA 

The  skin  I  will  give  you,  too,  the  sheepskin 
You  were  sleeping  on  here  to-day. 
If  you  give  me  some  of  those  red  seed-pods, 
The  red  pods  you  know  —  twigs  of  the  nasso. 
Go  off,  then,  go  off,  and  fill  up  and  guzzle! 

ANNA 

I  have  none,  I  have  none  in  my  bag  here. 
Go  slower  a  bit,  woman  of  the  valley, 
Take  time,  go  slowly,  go  slowly, 
Think  it  over  a  day,  or  a  month,  or  a  year. 

MILA 

O  Granny  dear,  more  will  I  give  you! 
A  kerchief  with  pictures  in  color, 

134 


OF    JORIO 


And  of  woollen  cloth,  three  arms'  lengths, 
If  you  give  me  some  of  the  herb-roots  — 
The  same  that  you  sell  to  the  shepherds 
That  kill  off  the  wolves  so  swiftly  — 
The  root  of  the  wolf  -grass,  the  wolf  -bane  — 
Go  off  then.    Go  off  and  mend  up  your  bones  1 

ANNA  . 

I  have  none,  I  have  none  left  in  my  bag 

here. 

Go  slower  a  bit,  woman  of  the  valley, 
Take  time,  go  slowly,  go  slowly, 
With  time  there  always  comes  wisdom, 
Think  it  over  a  day,  or  a  month,  or  a  year, 
With  the  herbs  of  the  good  Mother  Mountain 
We  can  heal  all  our  ailments  and  sorrows. 

MILA 

You  will  not?    Very  well  then,  I  snatch  thus 

from  you 
That  black  bag  of  yours.     Therein  I  '11  be 

finding 
What  will  serve  for  me  well,  well  indeed! 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrii. 

[She  tries  to  tear  the  bag  away  from  the 
tottering  old  woman.] 

ANNA 

No,  no.    You  are  robbing  me,  your  poor  old 

granny, 
You  force  me!     The   shepherd  —  he'd  tear 

me  — 
Gouge  out  my  eyes  from  their  sockets. 

[A  step  is  heard  and  a  man's  form  appears 
in  the  shadows. ] 

Behold  what  this  woman  is  doing. 

MILA 

Ah!   it  is  you,  it  is  you,  Aligi! 

[MiLA  lets  fall  the  bag  which  she  had  taken 
from  the  old  woman  and  sees  the  man  looming 
tall  in  the  dim  light  of  the  mountain ,  but  recog- 
nizing him  she  takes  refuge  in  the  depths  of  the 
cavern.  LAZARO  DI  Roio  then  enters,  silent, 
with  a  rope  around  his  arm  like  an  ox  drover 
about  to  tie  up  his  beast.  The  sound  of  ANNA 
ONNA'S  crutches  striking  against  the  stones  is 
heard  as  she  departs  in  safety. ~\ 

136 


SCENEI.]  OF        JORIO 

LAZARO 

Woman,  O,  you  need  not  be  frightened. 

Lazaro  di  Roio  has  come  here, 

But  he  does  not  carry  his  sickle: 

It  is  scarcely  a  case  of  an  eye  for  an  eye, 

And  he  does  not  wish  to  enforce  it. 

There  was  more  than  an  ounce  of  blood  taken 

From  him  on  the  wheat-field  of  Mispa, 

And  you  know  cause  and  end  of  that  bloodshed. 

Ounce  for  ounce,  then,  he  will  not  take  from 

you, 

Nor  wish  it,  for  all  the  wound's  smarting  — 
The  cicatrice,  here  in  the  forehead. 
Raven  feather,  olive-twig  crook, 
Rancid  oil,  soot  from  the  chimney  shook, 
Morn  unto  eve,  eve  unto  morn, 
The  cursed  wound  must  healing  scorn! 

[He  gives  a  short,  malignant  laugh.~\ 

And  where  I  was  lying,  I  heard  ever 
The  weeping  and  wailing,  the  women, 
•  Oh,  not  for  me,  but  this  shepherd, 
Spell-bound,  bewitched  by  the  witch  shrew 

137 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTII. 

Way  off  in  the  far-away  mountain. 
Surely,  woman,  poor  was  your  picking. 
But  my  grit  and  my  blood  are  back  again, 
And  many  words  I  shall  not  be  talking, 
My  tongue  is  dry  now  for  doing  it, 
And  all  for  this  same  sad  occasion. 
Now  then,  say  I,  you  shall  come  on  with  me, 
And  no  talk  about  it,  daughter  of  Jorio! 
Waiting  below  is  the  donkey  and  saddle, 
And  also  here  a  good  rope  hempen, 
And  others  to  spare,  God  be  praised!  if  need 
be! 

[MiLA    remains    motionless,    backed    up 
against  the  rock,  without  replying.] 

Did  you  hear  me,  Mila  di  Codra? 
Or  are  you  deaf  and  dumb  now? 
This  I  am  saying  in  quiet: 
I  know  all  about  how  it  happened, 
That  time  with  the  reapers  of  Norca. 
If  you  are  thinking  to  thwart  me 
With  the  same  old  tricks,  undeceive  you! 
There  's  no  fireplace  here,  nor  any 

138 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

Relations,  nor  San  Giovanni 
Ringing  the  bells  of  salvation.    (  ' 
I  take  three  steps  and  I  seize  you, 
With  two  good  stout  fellows  to  help  me. 
So  now,  then,  and  I  say  it  in  quiet, 
You  'd  better  agree  to  what  needs  be. 
You  may  just  as  well  do  as  I  want  you, 
For  if  you  don't  do  so,  you  '11  have  to ! 

MILA 

What  do  you  want  from  me?    Where  already 
Death  was,  you  came.     Death  is  here,  even 

now. 

He  stepped  one  side  to  let  you  enter. 
Withdrawing  awhile,  still  here  he  is  waiting. 
Oh,  pick  up  that  bag  there;    inside  it 
Are  deadly  roots  enough  to  kill  ten  wolves. 
If  you  bind  it  on  to  my  jaws  here 
I  would  make  of  it  all  a  good  mouthful; 
I  would  eat  therein,  you  would  see  me, 
As  the  good  hungry  mare  that  crunches 
Her  oats.     So  then,  when  I  should  be 
Cold,  you  could  take  me  up  there  and  toss  me 

139 


THE    DAUGHTER       Ucrn. 

And  pack  me  upon  your  donkey, 
And  tie  with  your  rope  like  a  bundle, 
And  shout  out:  "  Behold  the  witch,  shameless, 
The  sorceress!  "    Let  them  burn  up  my  body, 
Let  the  women  come  round  and  behold  me, 
And  rejoice  in  deliverance.     Mayhap 
One  would  thrust  in  her  hand,  in  the  fire, 
Without  being  burned  in  the  flame, 
And  draw  from  the  core  of  the  heat  my  heart. 


^  at  her  first  bidding,  takes  up  the 
bag  and  examines  the  simples.  He  then  throws 
it  behind  him}  with  suspicion  and  distrust.  ~\ 

LAZARO 

Ah,  ah!    You  want  to  spread  some  snare. 
What  crouch  are  you  watching  to  spring  on 

me! 

In  your  voice  I  can  hear  all  your  slyness, 
OBut  I  shall  trap  you  in  my  lariat. 

[At  this  he  makes  his  rope  into  a  lariat.'} 

Not  dead,  neither  cold  do  I  want  you. 
Lazaro  di  Roio,  —  by  all  the  gods  !  — 

140 


SCENBl.]  OF         JORIO 

Mila  di  Codra,  will  harvest  you, — 
Will  go  with  you  this  very  October, 
And  for  this  all  things  are  ready. 
He  will  press  the  grapes  with  your  body, 
Lazaro  will  sink  in  the  must  with  you. 

[With  a  sinister  laugh  he  advances  toward 
MILA,  who  is  on  the  alert  to  elude  him,  the  man 
following  closely,  she  darting  here  and  there, 
unable  to  escape  him.~] 

MILA 

Do  not  touch  me!    Be  ashamed  of  yourself! 
For  your  own  son  is  standing  behind  you. 

[ALIGI  appears  at  the  end  of  the  cave. 
Seeing  his  father,  he  turns  pale.  LAZARO,  halt- 
ing in  his  chase,  turns  toward  him.  Father  and 
son  regard  each  other  intently  and  ominously.] 

LAZARO 
Hola  there,  Aligi!    What  is  it? 

ALIGI 

Father,  how  did  you  come  hither? 

141 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTn. 

LAZARO 

Has  your  blood  been  all  sucked  up  that  it 's 

made  you 

So  pale?  As  white  you  stand  there  in  the  light 
As  the  whey  when  they  squeeze  out  the  cheeses. 
Shepherd,  say,  why  are  you  frightened? 

ALIGI 

Father,  what  is  it  you  wish  to  do  here? 

LAZARO 

What  I  wish  to  do  here?    You  are  asking 
A  question  of  me,  a  right  you  have  not. 
I  will  tell  you,  however.     This  will  I: 
The  yearling  ewe  catch  in  my  lariat, 
Ajid  lead  her  wherever  it  please  me. 
That  done,  I  shall  sentence  the  shepherd. 

ALIGI 

Father,  this  thing  you  shall  surely  not  do. 

LAZARO 

How  dare  you  then  lift  so  boldly 
Your  white  face  up  into  mine?    Be  careful 

142 


SCENE  I.]  OF         JORIO 

Or  I  shall  make  it  blush  of  a  sudden. 

Go!    turn  back  to  your  sheepfold  and  stay 

there, 

With  your  flock  inside  the  enclosure, 
Until  I  come  there  to  seek  you. 
On  your  life,  I  say,  obey  me! 

ALIGI 

Father,  I  pray  the  Saviour  to  keep  me 
From  doing  you  aught  but  obedience. 
And  you  are  able  to  judge  and  to  sentence 
This  son  of  your  own;    but  this  one  — 
This  woman,  see  that  you  leave  her  alone! 
Leave  her  to  weep  here  alone. 
Do  no  offence  unto  her.     It  is  sinful. 

LAZARO 

Ah!    The  Lord  has  made  you  crazy! 
Of  what  saint  were  you  just  speaking? 
See  you  not  (may  your  eyes  be  blind  forever!) 
See  you  not  how  under  her  eyelashes, — 
Around  her  neck  lie  hidden 
The  seven  sins,  the  mortal  sins? 

143 


THE    DAUGHTER       [ACTBL 

Surely,  if  there  should  see  her  only 
Your  buck  now,  't  would  butt  her,  and  you  here 
Are  frightened  lest  I  should  offend  her! 
I  tell  you  the  stones  of  the  highroad 
By  man  and  by  beast  are  less  trodden 
Than  she  is  by  sin  and  shame  trampled. 

ALIGI 

If  it  were  not  a  sin  unto  God  in  me, 
If  by  all  men  it  were  not  deemed  evil, 
Father,  I  should  say  unto  you  that  in  this 

thing,— 
In  this  thing  you  lie  in  your  gullet! 

[He  takes  a  few  steps  and  places  himself 
between  his  father  and  the  woman,  covering 
her  with  his  body.] 

LAZARO 

What 's  that  you  say?    Your  tongue  in  you 

wither ! 

Down  on  your  knees  there,  to  beg  me 
Forgiveness,  your  face  on  the  ground  there! 
And  never  dare  you  to  lift  up  your  body 

144 


OF    JORIO 


Before  me!     Thus,  on  your  marrow-bones, 
Off  with  you!    Herd  with  your  dogs! 


ALIGI 


The  Saviour  will  judge  of  me,  father: 
But  this  woman  I  shall  not  abandon, 
Nor  unto  your  wrath  shall  I  leave  her, 
While  living.    The  Saviour  will  judge  me. 

LAZARO 

I  am  the  judge  of  you.    Who 
Am  I  then  to  you,  blood  and  body? 

j 

ALIGI 

You  are  my  own  father,  dear  unto  me. 

LAZARO 

I  am  unto  you  your  own  father,  and  to  you 
I  may  do  as  to  me  it  seem  pleasing 
Because  unto  me  you  are  but  the  ox 
In  my  stable;    you  are  but  my  shovel 
And  hoe.     And  if  I  should  over  you 
Pass  with  my  harrow  and  tear  you 
10  145 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrii. 

And  break  you  in  pieces,  this  is  well  done! 

And  if  I  have  need  of  a  handle 

For  my  knife,  and  one  I  shall  make  myself 

Out  of  one  of  your  bones,  this  is  well  done! 

Because  I  am  the  father  and  you  are  the  son! 

Do  you  heed?    And  to  me  over  you  is  given 

All  power,  since  time  beyond  time, 

And  a  law  that  is  over  all  laws. 

And  as  even  I  was  to  my  father, 

So  even  are  you  unto  me,  under  earth. 

Do  you  heed?    And  if  from  your  memory 

This  thing  has  fallen,  then  thus  I  recall 

It  unto  your  memory.     Kneel  down  on  your 

knees  and  kiss  ye 
The  earth  on  your  marrow-bones 
And  go  off  without  looking  behind  you! 

ALJGI 

Pass  over  me  then  with  the  harrow; 
But  touch  not  the  woman. 

[LAZARO  goes  up  to  him,  unable  to  restrain 
Ms  rage,  and  lifting  the  rope,  strikes  him  on  the 
shoulder.] 

146 


SCENEL]  OF         JORIO 

LAZARO 

Down,  down,  you  dog,  down,  to  the  ground 
with  you  I 

ALTGI  [  falling  on  his  knees} 

So  then,  my  father,  I  kneel  down  before  you: 
The  ground  in  front  of  you  do  I  kiss, 
And  in  the  name  of  the  true  God  and  living 
By  my  first  tear  and  my  infant  wailing 
From  the  time  when  you  took  me  unswaddled 
And  in  your  hand  held  me  aloft 
Before  the  sacred  face  of  Lord  Christ,  — 
By  all  this,  I  beseech  you,  I  pray  you,  my 

father, 

That  you  tread  not  thus  and  trample 
On  the  heart  of  your  son  sorrow-laden. 
Do  not  thus  disgrace  him!    I  pray  you: 
Do  not  make  his  senses  forsake  him, 
Nor  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  the  False 

One- 

The  Enemy  who  wheels  now  about  us! 
I  pray  you  by  the  angel  there  silent, 
Who  sees  and  who  hears  in  that  wood  block! 

147 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acrii. 

LAZARO 

Begone!    Off  with  you!    Off  with  you! 

I  shall  shortly  now  judge  of  you. 

Off  with  you,  I  bid  you.    Be  off  with  you! 

[He  strikes  him  cruelly  with  the  rope. 
ALIGI  rises  all  quivering.'] 

ALIGI 

Let  the  Saviour  be  judge.    Let  him  judge  then 
Between  you  and  me,  and  let  him  give  unto  me 
Light;  but  yet  I  will  against  you 
Not  lift  up  this  my  hand. 

LAZARO 

Be  you  damned!    With  this  rope  I  will  hang 
you. 

[He  throws  the  lariat  to  take  him  but 
ALIGI,  seizing  the  rope  with  a  sudden  jerk, 
takes  it  out  of  his  father's  hands. ~\ 

ALIGI 

Christ  my  Saviour,  help  Thou  me! 
That  I  may  not  uplift  my  hand  against  him, 
That  I  may  not  do  this  to  my  father! 

148 


]  OF    JORIO 

LAZAIIO  [furious,  goes  to  the  door  and  calls} 

Ho,  Jenne!   and  ho,  Femo!    Come  here! 

Come  here,  and  see  this  fellow, 

What  he  is  doing  (may  a  viper  sting  him!) 

Fetch  the  ropes.     Possessed  is  he 

Most  surely.     His  own  father  he  threatens! 

[Running  appear  two  men,  big  and  mus- 
cular,, bearing  ropes. ~\ 

He  is  rebellious,  this  fellow! 

From  the  womb  is  he  damned, 

And  for  all  his  days  and  beyond  them. 

The  evil  spirit  has  entered  into  him. 

See!    See!    Behold  how  bloodless 

The  face  is.    O  Jenne!    You  take  him  and 

hold  him. 
O  Femo,  you  have  the  rope,  take  it  and  bind 

him, 

For  to  stain  myself  I  am  not  wishing. 
Then  go  ye  and  seek  out  some  one 
To  perform  the  exconjuration. 

[The  two  men  throw  themselves  upon  ALIGI 
and  overpower  him.'] 

149 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acm. 

ALIGI 

Brothers  in  God!    O,  do  not  do  this  to  me! 

Do  not  imperil  your  soul,  Jenne. 

I  who  know  you  so  well,  who  remember, 

Remember  you  well  from  a  baby, 

Since  you  came  as  a  boy  to  pick  up  the  olives 

In  your  fields.    O  Jenne  dell  Eta! 

I  remember  you.     Do  not  thus  debase  me. 

Do  not  thus  disgrace  me! 

[They  hold  him  tightly,  trying  to  bind  him, 
and  pushing  him  on  toward  the  entrance. ,] 

Ah !    dog !  —  The  pest  take  you !  — 
No,  no,  no!  —  Mila,  Mila!     Hasten!  — 
Give  me  the  iron  there.     Mila!     Mila! 

[His  voice,  desperate  and  hoarse,  is  heard 
in  the  distance,  while  LAZARO  bars  MILA'S 
egress.'} 

MILA 

Aligi,  Aligi!    Heaven  help  you! 
May  God  avenge  you!    Never  despair! 
No  power  have  I,  no  power  have  you, 

150 


SCENBI.]  OF        JORIO 

But  while  I  have  breath  in  my  mouth, 
I  am  all  yours!    I  am  all  for  you! 
Have  faith!    Have  faith!     Help  shall  come! 
Be  of  good  heart,  Aligi!    May  God  help  you! 

[MiLA  gazes  intently  along  the  path  where 
ALIGI  was  borne  and  listens  intently  for  voices. 
In  this  brief  interval  LAZAEO  scrutinizes  the 
cavern  insidiously.  From  the  distance  comes 
the  singing  of  another  company  of  pilgrims 
crossing  the  valley.] 

LAZARO 

Woman,  now  then  you  have  been  seeing 
How  I  am  the  man  here.    I  give  out  the  law. 
You  are  left  here  alone  with  me. 
Night  is  approaching,  and  inside  here 
It  is  now  almost  night.     O  don't 
Be  afraid  of  me,  Mila  di  Codra, 
Nor  yet  of  this  red  scar  of  mine 
If  you  see  it  light  up,  for  now  even 
I  feel  in  it  the  beat  of  the  fever. 
Come  nearer  me.    Quite  worn  out  you  seem 
to  be 

151 


THE    DAUGHTER 


For  sure  you  Ve  not  met  with  fat  living 
On  this  hard  shepherd's  pallet. 
While  with  me  you  shall  have,  if  you  want  it, 
All  of  that  in  the  valley;   for  Lazaro 
Di  Roio  is  one  of  the  thrifty. 
But  what  do  you  spy  at?    Whom  do  you  wait 
for? 

MELA 

No  one  I  wait  for.    No  one  is  coming! 

[She  is  still  motionless,  hoping  to  see 
OENELLA  come  and  save  her.  Dissimulating 
to  gain  time,  she  tries  to  defeat  LAZARO'S 
intentions.] 

LAZARO 

You  are  alone  with  me.    You  need  not 
Be  frightened.     Are  you  persuaded? 

MILA  [hesitatingly] 

I  'm  thinking,  Lazaro  di  Roio. 
I  'm  thinking  of  what  you  have  promised. 
I  'm  thinking.     But  what  's  to  secure  me? 

152 


SCENE!.]  OF         JORIO 

LAZARO 

Do  not  draw  back.     My  word  I  keep. 

All  that  I  promise,  I  tell  you. 

Be  assured,  God  be  witness.    Come  to  me! 

MTT.A 
And  Candia  della  Leonessa? 

LAZARO 

Let  the  bitterness  of  her  mouth  moisten 
Her  thread,  and  with  that  be  her  weaving! 

M3LA 

— The  three  daughters  you  have  in  your  house- 
hold? 
And  now  the  new  one !  —  I  dare  not  trust  to  it. 

LAZARO 

Come  here!  Don't  draw  back!  Here!  Feel  it! 
Where  I  tucked  it.    Twenty  ducats, 
Sewed  in  this  coat.    Do  you  want  them? 

[He  feels  for  them  through  his  goatskin 
coat,  then  takes  it  off  and  throws  it  on  the 
ground  at  her  feet.~\ 

153 


THE    DAUGHTER 

Take  them  I    Don't  you  hear  them  clinking? 
There  are  twenty  silver  ducats. 

MILA 

But  first  I  must  see  them  and  count  them,  — 
First  —  before  —  Lazaro  di  Roio. 
,  Now  will  I  take  these  shears  and  rip  it. 

LAZARO 

But  why  spy  about  so?     You  witch!    surely 
You  're  getting  some  little  trick  ready. 
You  're  hoping  yet  you  '11  deceive  me. 

[ H e  makes  a  rush  at  her  to  seize  her.    She 
eludes  him  and  seeks  refuge  near  the  walnut 

block. ] 

MELA 

No,  no,  no!    Let  me  alone!     Let  me  alone! 
Don't  you  touch  me!    See!    See!    She  comes! 
See!     See!   she  comes 

Your  own  daughter  —  Ornella  is  coming. 

[She  grasps  the  angel  to  resist  LAZARO'S 
violence.] 

No,  no!    Ornella,  Ornella,  O  help  me! 

154 


Seem  I.]  OF      JORIO 

[Suddenly  ALIGI  appears,  free  and  un- 
bound, at  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  He  sees  in 
the  dim  light  the  two  figures.  He  throws  him- 
self upon  his  father.  Catching  sight  of  the  axe 
driven  into  the  wood,  he  seizes  it,  blind  with  fury 
and  horror.] 

ALIGI 

Let  her  go!    For  your  life! 

[He  strikes  his  father  to  death.  ORNELLA, 
just  appearing,  bends  down  and  recognizes  the 
dead  body  in  the  shadow  of  the,  angel.  She 
utters  a  great  cry.~\ 

OKNELLA 

Ah!   I  untied  him!    I  untied  him! 


155 


THE    DAUGHTER       [Acriii. 


ACT  III. 

A  LARGE  country  yard;  in  the  farther 
end  an  oak,  venerable  with  age,,  be- 
yond the  fields,  bounded  by  moun- 
tains, furrowed  by  torrents;    on  the  left  the 
house  of  LAZARO,  the  door  open,  the  porch 
littered  with  agricultural  implements;   on  the 
right  the  haystack,  the  mill,  and  the  straw 
stack. 

The  body  of  LAZARO  is  lying  on  the  floor 
within  the  house,  the  head  resting,  according 
to  custom  for  one  murdered,  on  a  bundle  of 
grape-vine  twigs;  the  wailers,  kneeling,  sur- 
round the  body,  one  of  them  intoning  the  lam- 
entation, the  others  answering.  At  times  they 
bow  toward  one  another,  bending  till  they 
bring  their  foreheads  together.  On  the  porch, 
between  the  plough  and  large  earthen  vessel, 
are  the  kindred  and  SPLENDOKE  and  FAVETTA. 
Farther  from  them  is  VIENDA  DI  GIAVE,  sitting 

156 


SCENE  L]  OF      JORIO 

on  a  hewn  stone,  looking  pale  and  desolate, 
with  the  look  of  one  dying,  her  mother  and  god- 
mother consoling  her.  ORNELLA  is  under  the 
tree,  alone,  her  head  turned  toward  the  path. 
All  are  in  mourning. 

CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

Jesu,  Saviour,  Jesu,  Saviour! 
'T  is  your  will.    'T  is  your  bidding, 
That  a  tragic  death  accursed 
Lazaro  fell  by  and  perished. 
From  peak  unto  peak  ran  the  shudder, 
All  of  the  mountain  was  shaken. 
Veiled  was  the  sun  in  heaven, 
Hidden  his  face  was  and  covered. 
Woe!    Woe!     Lazaro,  Lazaro,  Lazaro! 
Alas!    What  tears  for  thee  tear  us! 
Requiem  ceternam  dona  ei,  Domine. 
(O  Lord!  give  him  rest  eternal.) 

ORNELLA 

Now,  now!  Coming!  'Tis  coming!  Far  off! 
The  black  standard!  The  dust  rising! 

157 


THE    DAUGHTER 

O  sisters,  my  sisters,  think,  oh!   think 
Of  the  mother,  how  to  prepare  her!- 
That  her  heart  may  not  break.     But  a  little 
And  he  will  be  here.     Lo!   at  the  near  turn, 
At  the  near  turn  the  standard  appearing! 

SPLENDORE 

Mother  of  the  passion  of  the  Son  crucified, 
You  and  you  only  can  tell  the  mother,  — 
Go  to  the  mother,  to  her  heart  whisper! 

[Some  of  the  women  go  out  to  see.~\ 

ANNA  DI  BOVE 

It  is  the  cypress  of  the  field  of  Fiamorbo. 

FELAVIA  SESARA 

It  is  the  shadow  of  clouds  passing  over. 

ORNELLA 

It  is  neither  the  cypress  nor  shadow 
Of   storm-cloud,   dear   women,   I   see  it  ad- 
vancing, 

158 


sacra  L]  OF    JORIO 

Neither  cypress  nor  storm-cloud,  woe  's  me ! 
But  the  Standard  and  Sign  of  Wrong-Doing 
That  is  borne  along  with  him.    He  's  coming 
The  condemned  one's  farewells  to  receive  here, 
To  take  from  the  hands  of  the  mother 
The  cup  of  forgetting,  ere  to  God  he  commend 

him. 

Ah!   wherefore  are  we  not  all  of  us  dying, 
Dying  with  him?    My  sisters,  my  sisters! 

[Tlie  sisters  all  look  out  the  gate  toward  the 
path.'] 

THE  CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

Jesu,  Jesu,  it  were  better 

That  this  roof  should  on  us  crumble. 

Ah!    Too  much  is  this  great  sorrow, 

Candia  della  Leonessa. 

On  the  bare  ground  your  husband  lying, 

Not  even  permitted  a  pillow, 

But  only  a  bundle  of  vine-twigs, 

Under  his  head  where  he  's  lying. 

Woe!   woe!    Lazaro,  Lazaro,  Lazaro! 

Alas!    What  pain  for  thee  pains  us! 

Requiem  ceternam  dona  eif  Domine. 

159 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrin. 

SPLENDORE 

Favetta,  go  you;   go  speak  to  her. 

Go  you,  touch  her  on  the  shoulder. 

So  she  may  feel  and  turn.     She  is  seated 

Like  unto  a  stone  on  the  hearthstone, 

Stays  fixed  there  without  moving  an  eyelash, 

And  she  seems  to  see  nothing,  hear  nothing; 

She  seems  to  be  one  with  the  hearthstone. 

Dear  Virgin  of  mercy  and  pity! 

Her  senses  O  do  not  take  from  her!  —  Un- 
happy one! 

Cause  her  to  heed  us,  and  in  our  eyes 
looking 

To  come  to  herself,  dear  unhappy  one. 

Yet  I  have  no  heart  even  to  touch  her, 

And  who  then  will  say  the  word  to  her? 

O  sister!    Go  tell  her:    Lo!    he  is  coming! 

FAVETTA 

Nor  have  I  the  heart.     She  affrights  me. 
How  she  looked  before  I  seem  to  forget, 
And  how  her  voice  sounded  before, 
Ere  in  the  deep  of  this  sorrow 

160 


OF    JORIO 


We  plunged.    Her  head  has  whitened 

And  it  grows  every  hour  whiter. 

Oh!   she  is  scarcely  ours  any  more, 

She  seems  from  us  so  far  away, 

As  if  on  that  stone  she  were  seated 

For  years  a  hundred  times  one  hundred  — 

From  one  hundred  years  to  another  — 

And  had  lost,  quite  lost  remembrance 

Of  us.  —  O  just  see  now,  just  see  now, 

Her  mouth,  how  shut  her  mouth  is! 

More    shut    than    the    mouth    that  's    made 

silent,  — 

Mute  on  the  ground  there  forever. 
How  then  can  she  speak  to  us  ever? 
I  will  not  touch  her  nor  can  I  tell  her  — 
"Lo!    he/is  coming!"     If  she  awaken 
She  '11  fall,  she  '11  crumble.    She  affrights  me! 

SPLENDORE 

O  wherefore  were  we  born,  my  sisters? 
And  wherefore  brought  forth  by  our  mother? 
Let  us  all  in  one  sheaf  be  gathered, 
And  let  Death  bear  us  all  thus  away! 
11  161 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrm. 

THE  CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

—  Ah!   mercy,  mercy  on  you,  Woman! 

—  Ah!   mercy  be  upon  you,  Women! 

—  Up  and  take  heart  again!    The  Lord  God 
Will  uplift  whom  he  uprooted. 

If  God  willed  it  that  sad  be  the  vintage 
Mayhap  He  wills,  too,  that  the  olives 
Be  sure.    Put  your  trust  in  the  Lord. 

—  And  sadder  than  you  is  another, 
She  who  sat  in  her  home  well  contented, 
In  plenty,  mid  bread  and  clean  flour, 
Entering  here,  fell  asleep,  to  awaken 
Amid  foul  misfortune  and  never 
Again  to  smile.     She  is  dying:    Vienda. 
Of  the  world  beyond  is  she  already. 

—  She  is  there  without  wailing  or  weeping! 
Ah!   on  all  human  flesh  have  thou  pity! 

On  all  that  are  living  have  mercy! 
And  all  who  are  born  to  suffer, 
To  suffer  and  know  not  wherefore! 

ORNELLA 

Oh,  there  Femo  di  Nerfa  is  coming, 
The  ox  driver,  hurriedly  coming. 

162 


ScENEi.1  OF    JORIO 

And  there  is  the  standard  stopping 

Beside  the  White  Tabernacle. 

My  sisters,  shall  I  myself  go  to  her 

And  bear  her  the  word? 

Woe!  oh,  woe!    If  she  does  not  remember 

What  is  required  of  her.     Lord  God 

Forbid  that  she  be  not  ready 

And  all  unprepared  he  come  on  her  and  call 

her, 

For  if  his  voice  strike  her  ear  on  a  sudden 
Then  surely  her  heart  will  be  broken,  broken! 

ANNA  DI  BOVE 

Then  surely  her  heart  will  be  broken, 
Ornella,  if  you  should  go  touch  her, 
For  you  bring  bad  fortune  with  you. 
'T  was  you  who  barred  up  the  doorway, 
'T  was  you  who  unfettered  Aligi. 

THE  CHORUS  OF  WALLERS 

To  whom  are  you  leaving  your  ploughshare, 
O  Lazaro!  to  whom  do  you  leave  it? 
Who  now  your  fields  will  be  tilling? 

163 


THE    DAUGHTER      [ACT  in. 

Who  now  your  flocks  will  be  leading? 
Both  father  and  son  the  Enemy 
Has  snared  in  his  toils  and  taken. 
Death  of  infamy!    Death  of  infamy! 
The  rope,  and  the  sack,  and  the  blade  of  iron! 
Woe!    woe!     Lazaro,  Lazaro,  Lazaro! 
Alas!    What  torments  for  thee  torment  us! 
Requiem  czternam  dona  el,  Domine. 

[The  ox  driver  appears,  panting.'} 

FEMO  DI  NERFA 

Where  is  Candia?     O  ye  daughters  of  the 

dead  one! 

Judgment  is  pronounced.    Now  kiss  ye 
The  dust !  Now  grasp  in  your  hands  the  ashes ! 
For  now  the  Judge  of  Wrong-Doing 
Has  given  the  final  sentence. 
And  all  the  People  is  the  Executor 
Of  the  Parricide,  and  in  its  hands  it  has  him. 
Now  the  People  are  bringing  here  your  brother 
That  he  may  receive  forgiveness 
From  his  own  mother,  from  his  mother 
Receive  the  cup  of  forgetfulness, 

164 


]  OF    JORIO 

Before  his  right  hand  they  shall  sever, 
Before  in  the  leathern  sack  they  sew  him 
With  the  savage  mastiff  and  throw  him 
Where  the  deep  restless  waters  o'erflow  him! 
All  ye  daughters  of  the  dead  one,  kiss  ye 
The  dust  now;   grasp  in  your  hands  now  the 

ashes! 

And  may  our  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Upon  innocent  blood  have  pity! 

[The  three  sisters  rush  up  to  each  other, 
and  then  advancing  slowly,  remain  with  their 
heads  touching  each  other.  From  the  distance 
is  heard  the  sound  of  the  muffled  drum.'] 

MARIA  CORA 

O  Femo,  how  could  you  ever  say  it? 

FEMO  DI  NERFA 

Where  is  Candia?    Why  does  she  not  appear 
here? 

LA  CINERELLA 

On  the  hearthstone,  the  stone  by  the  fireplace 
She  sits  and  gives  no  sign  of  living. 

165 


THE    DAUGHTER      UcriH. 

ANNA  DI  BOVA 

And  there 's  no  one  so  hardy  to  touch  her. 

LA  CINERELLA 

And  affrighted  for  her  are  her  daughters. 

FELAVIA  SESARA 

And  you,  Femo,  did  you  bear  witness? 

LA  CATALANA 

And  Aligi,  did  you  have  him  near  you? 
And  before  the  judge  what  did  he  utter? 

MONICA  DELIA  COGNA 

What  said  he?    What  did  he?    Aloud 
Did  he  cry?    Did  he  rave,  the  poor  unfortu- 
nate one? 

FEMO  DI  NERFA 

He  fell  on  his  knees  and  remained  so, 
And  upon  his  own  hand  stayed  gazing, 
And  at  times  he  would  say  "  M  ea  culpa" 
And  would  kiss  the  earth  before  him, 

166 


SCEKEl.]  OF        JORIO 

And  his  face  looked  sweet  and  humble, 
As  the  face  of  one  who  was  innocent. 
And  the  angel  carved  out  of  the  walnut  block 
Was  near  him  there  with  the  blood-stain. 
And  many  about  him  were  weeping, 
And  some  of  them  said,  "  He  is  innocent." 

ANNA  DI  BOVA 

And  that  woman  of  darkness,  Mila 
Di  Codra,  has  anyone  seen  her? 

LA  CATALANA 

Where  is  the  daughter  of  Jorio? 

Was  she  not  to  be  seen?    What  know  you? 

FEMO  DI  NERFA 

They  have  searched  all  the  sheepfolds  and 

stables 

Without  any  trace  of  her  finding. 
The  shepherds  have  nowhere  seen  her, 
Only  Cosma,  the  saint  of  the  mountain, 
Seems  to  have  seen  her,  and  he  says 

167 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrin. 

That  in  some  mountain  gorge  she  's  gone  to 
cast  her  bones  away. 


LA  CATALANA 

May  the  crows  find  her  yet  living 

And  pick  out  her  eyes.     May  the  wolf-pack 

Scent  her  yet  living  and  tear  her! 

FELAVIA  SESARA 

And  ever  reborn  to  that  torture 

Be  the  damnable  flesh  of  that  woman! 

MARIA  CORA 

03e  still,  be  still,  Felavia,  silence,  I  say! 
Be  silent  now!    For  Candia  has  arisen, 
She  is  walking,  coming  to  the  threshold. 
Now  she  goes  out.    O  daughters,  ye  daughters, 
She  has  arisen,  support  her! 

[The  sisters  separate  and  go  toward  the 
door.~\ 

THE  CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

Candia  della  Leonessa, 
Whither  go  you?    Who  has  called  you? 

168 


SCENE  I.]  OF      JORIO 

Sealed  up  are  your  lips  and  silent, 

And  your  feet  are  like  feet  fettered. 

Death  you  are  leaving  behind  you, 

And  sin  you  find  coming  to  meet  you. 

Wheresoever  going,  wheresoever  turning, 

Thorny  everywhere  the  pathway. 

Oh!   woe!   woe!   ashes,  ashes,  widow! 

Oh!   woe!   mother,  Jesu!   Jesu!  mercy! 

De  profundis  clamavi  ad  te,  Domine. 

(Out  of  the  deep,  O  Lord,  I  cry  unto  Thee!) 

[The  mother  appears  at  the  threshold. 
The  daughters  timidly  go  to  support  her.  Sh& 
gazes  at  them  in  great  bewilderment.] 

SPLENDORE 

Mother,  dearest,  you  have  risen,  maybe 
You  need  something  —  refreshment  — 
A  mouthful  of  muscadel,  a  cordial? 

FAVETTA 

Parched  are  your  lips,  you  dear  one, 

And  bleeding  are  they?     Shall  we  not  bathe 

them? 

169 


THE    DAUGHTER     [ACTIIL 

ORNELLA 

Mommy,  have  courage,  we  are  with  you. 
Unto  this  great  trial  God  has  called  you. 

CANDIA 

And  from  one  warp  came  so  much  linen, 
And  from  one  spring  so  many  rivers, 
And  from  one  oak  so  many  branches, 
And  from  one  mother  many  daughters! 

ORNELLA 

Mother  dear,  your  forehead  is  fevered.     For 

the  weather 

To-day  is  stifling,  and  your  dress  is  heavy, 
And  your  dear  face  is  all  wet  with  moisture. 

MARIA  CORA 

Jesu,  Jesu,  may  she  not  lose  her  senses  1 

LA  CINERELLA 

Help  her  regain  her  mind,  Madonna! 

CANDIA 

It  is  so  long  since  I  did  any  singing, 
I  fear  I  cannot  hold  the  melody. 

170 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

But  to-day  is  Friday,  there  is  no  singing, 
Our  Saviour  went  to  the  mountain  this  day. 

SPLENDORE 

O  mother  dear,  where  does  your  mind  wander? 
Look  at  us!     Know  us!    What  idle  fancy 
Teases  you?    Wretched  are  we!    What  is  her 
meaning? 

CANDIA 

Here,  too,  is  the  stole,  and  here,  too,  is  the 

cup  sacramental, 

And  this  is  the  belfry  of  San  Biagio. 
And  this  is  the  river,  and  this  my  own  cabin. 
But  who,  who  is  this  one  who  stands  in  my 

doorway? 

[Sudden  terror  seizes  the  young  girls. 
They  draw  back,  watching  their  mother,  moan- 
ing and  weeping.] 

ORNELLA 

O  my  sisters,  we  have  lost  her! 
Lost  her,  also,  our  dear  mother! 
Oh!   too  far  away  do  her  senses  stray! 

171 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrni. 

SPLENDORE 

Unhappy  we!    Whom  God's  malediction  left 
Alone  in  the  land,  orphans  bereft  I 

FAVETTA 

By  the  other,  a  new  grave  make  ready  near 
And  bury  us  living  all  unready  here! 

FELAVIA  SESARA 

No  no,  dear  girls,  be  not  so  despairing, 
For  the  shock  is  but  pushing  her  senses 
Far  back  to  some  time  long  ago. 
Let  them  wander!  thence  soon  to  be  turning! 

[CANDIA  takes  several  steps. ~\ 

ORNELLA 

Mother,  you  hear  me?    Where  are  you  going? 

CANDIA 

I  have  lost  the  heart  of  my  dear  gentle  boy, 
Thirty-three   days   ago   now,   nor   yet   do   I 
find  it; 

172 


SCENEI.]  OF         JORIO 

Have  you  seen  him  anywhere?     Have  you 

met  him  afar? 

—  Upon  Calvary  Mountain  I  left  him, 
I  left  him  afar  on  the  distant  mountain, 
I  left  him  afar  in  tears  and  bleeding. 

I. 

MARIA  CORA 

Ah!   she  is  telling  her  stations. 

FELAVIA  SESARA 

Let  her  mind  wander,  let  her  say  them! 

LA  CINERELLA 

Let  her  all  her  heart  unburden! 

MONICA  DELLA  COGNA 

O  Madonna  of  Holy  Friday, 

Have  pity  on  her!    And  pray  for  us! 

[The  two  women  kneel  and  pray.] 

CANDIA 

Lo!   now  the  mother  sets  out  on  her  travels, 
To  visit  her  son  well  beloved  she  travels. 

173 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrm. 

—  O  Mother,  Mother,  wherefore  your  com- 
ing? 

Among  these  Judeans  there  is  no  safety. 

—  An  armful  of  linen  cloth  I  am  bringing 
To  swathe  the  sore  wounds  of  your  body. 

—  All!   me!   had  you  brought  but  a  swallow 

of  water! 

—  My  son !  —  No  pathway  I  know  nor  well- 

spring; 

But  if  you  will  bend  your  dear  head  a  little 
A  throatful  of  milk  from  my  breast  I  will 

give  you, 
Ajid  if  then  you  find  there  no  milk,  oh  so 

closely 
To  heart  I  will  press  you,  my  life  will  go  to 

you! 

—  O  Mother,  Mother,  speak  softly,  softly  — 

[She  stops  for  a  moment,  then  dragging 
her  words,  cries  out  suddenly  with  a  despairing 
en/.] 


Mother,  I  have  been  sleeping  for  years  seven 

.       -.     -. 

174 


hundred, 


SCBNBL]  OF        JORIO 

Years  seven  hundred,  I  come  from  afar  off. 
I  no  longer  remember  the  days  of  my  cradle. 

[Struck  by  her  own  voice,  she  stops  and 
looks  about  bewildered,  as  if  suddenly  awak- 
ened from  a  dream.  Her  daughters  hasten 
to  support  her.  The  women  all  rise.  The 
beating  of  the  drum  sounds  less  muffled,  as 
if  approaching.] 

ORNELLA 

Ah!  how  she  's  trembling,  how  she 's  all  trem- 
bling! 

Now  she  swoons.    Her  heart  is  almost  broken. 

For  two  days  she  has  tasted  nothing.  Gone 
is  she! 

SPLENDORE 

Mamma,  who  is  it  speaks  within  you?    What 

do  you  feel, 
Speaking  inside  you,  in  the  breast  of  you? 

FAVETTA 

Oh!   unto  us  hearken;   heed  us,  mother, 
Oh!   look  upon  us!    We  are  here  with  you! 

175 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrm. 

FEMO  DI  NERFA  [from  the  end  of  the  yard] 

O  women,  women,  he  's  near,  the  crowd  with 

him. 

The  standard  is  passing  the  cistern  now. 
They  are  bringing  also  the  angel  covered. 

[The   women  gather   under   the   oak   to 
watch.'] 

ORNELLA  [in  a  loud  voice] 

Mother,    Aligi    is    coming    now;    Aligi    is 

coming, 

To  take  from  your  heart  the  token  of  pardon, 
And  drink  from  your  hand  the  cup  of  forget- 

fulness. 

Awaken,  awaken,  be  brave,  dear  mother; 
Accursed  he  is  not.    With  deep  repentance 
The  sacred  blood  he  has  spilled  redeeming. 

CANDIA 

'T  is  true ;   oh,  't  is  true.    With  the  leaves  he 

was  bruising 

They  stanched  the  blood  that  was  gushing. 
"  Son  Aligi,"  he  said  then,  "  Son  Aligi, 

176 


SCENE  L]  OF      JORIO 

Let  go  the   sickle  and  take  up  the  sheep- 
crook, 

Be  you  the  shepherd  and  go  to  the  mountain." 
This  his  commandment  was  kept  in  obedience. 

SPLENDORE 

Do  you  well  understand?    Aligi  is  coming. 

CANDIA 

And  unto  the  mountain  he  must  be  returning. 
What  shall  I  do?    All  his  new  clothing 
I  have  not  yet  made  ready,  Ornella! 

ORNELIA 

Mother,  let  us  take  this  step.    Turn  now  unto 

us ;    here, 

In  front  of  the  house  we  must  await  him 
And  give  our  farewell  to  him  who  is  leaving, 
Then  all  in  peace  we  shall  lie  down  together, 
Side  by  side  in  the  deep  bed  below. 

[The  daughters  lead  their  mother  out  on 
the  porch.] 

12  177 


THE    DAUGHTER      UcriiL 

CANDIA  [murmuring  to  herself] 

I  lay  down  and  meseemed  of  Jesus  I  dreamed, 
He  came  to  me  saying,  "Be  not  fearful!" 
San  Giovanni  said  to  me,  "  Rest  in  safety." 

THE  CHORUS  OF  KINDRED 

—  Oh  what  crowds  of  people  follow  the  stand- 
ard, 

The  whole  village  is  coming  after. 

—  loria  di  Midia  is  carrying  the  standard. 

—  Oh  how  still  it  is,  like  a  processional ! 

—  Oh  what  sadness!    On  his  head  the  veil  of 
sable, 

—  On  his  hands  the  wooden  fetters, 
Large  and  heavy,  big  as  an  ox-yoke! 
Head  to  foot  the  gray  cloth  wraps  him,  he  is 

barefoot. 

—  Ah!     Who  can  look  longer!     My  face  I 
bury, 

I  close  up  my  eyes  from  longer  seeing. 

—  The  leathern  sack  Leonardo  is  bearing, 
Biagio  Gudo  leads  the  savage  mastiff. 

—  Mix  in  with  the  wine  the  roots  of  solatro 

178 


SCENEL]  OF         JORIO 

That  he  may  lose  his  consciousness. 

—  Brew  with  the  wine  the  herb  novella 
That  he  may  lose  feeling,  miss  suffering. 
Go,  Maria  Cora,  you  who  know  the  secrets, 
Help  Ornella  to  mix  the  potion. 

—  Dire  was  the  deed,  dire  is  the  suffering. 
Oh  what  sadness !    See  the  people ! 

—  Silently  comes  all  the  village. 

—  Abandoned  now  are  all  the  vineyards. 

—  To-day,  to-day  no  grapes  are  gathered. 

—  Yes,  to-day  even  the  land  is  mourning. 

—  Who  is  not  weeping?     Who  is  not  wail- 

ing? 

—  See  Vienda !    Almost  in  death's  agony. 
Better  for  her  that  she  lost  her  senses. 

—  Better  for  her  that  she  see  not,  hear  not. 

—  O  woe  for  her  bitter  fate,  three  months 
only 

Since  we  came  and  brought  our  hampers! 

—  And  sorrow  yet  to  come  who  may  measure? 

—  No  tears  shall  be  left  in  us  for  weeping. 


179 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrin. 

FEMO  DI  NERFA 

Silence,  O  kindred,  for  here  comes  lona. 

{The  women  turn  toward  the  porch.  There 
is  a  deep  silence.  The  voice  of  IONA] 

IONA 

O  widow  of  Lazaro  di  Roio, 
O  people  of  this  unhappy  home, 
Behold  now!    Behold  now!    The  penitent  is 
coming. 

[The  tall  figure  of  IONA  appears  bearing 
the  standard.  Behind  him  comes  the  parri- 
cide, robed  in  gray,  the  head  covered  with  a 
black  veil,  both  hands  manacled  in  heavy 
wooden  fetters.  A  man  on  one  side  is  holding 
the  shepherd's  carved  crook;  others  carry  the 
angel  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  which  they 
lower  to  the  ground.  The  crowd  pushes  be- 
tween the  straw  stack  and  ancient  oak.  The 
waiters,  still  on  their  knees,  crawl  to  the  door 
and  lift  up  their  voices  in  cries  and  wailing 
towards  the  condemned  one.~\ 

180 


OF    JORIO 

THE   CHORUS  OF  WAILERS 

Son,  O  son  Aligi!     Son,  O  son  Aligi! 
What  have  you  done?    What  have  you  done? 
Whose  body  is  this  body  bleeding? 
And  who  upon  the  stone  has  placed  it? 
Now  hath  come  your  hour  upon  you  I 
Black  is  the  wine  of  the  evil-doer! 
Severed  hand  and  death  of  infamy; 
Severed  hand  and  sack  of  leather  I 
Oh!    woe!   woe!    O  son  of  Lazaro.     Lazaro 
Is  dead.    Woe!    Woe!    And  you  slew  Lazaro ! 
Libera,  Domine,  animam  servi  tui. 
(Spare,  O  Lord,  the  soul  of  this  thy  servant.) 

IONA  DI  MTOIA 

Grief  is  yours,  Candia  della  Leonessa, 

O  Vienda  di  Giave,  grief  is  yours, 

Grief  is  yours,  daughters  of  the  dead  one! 

Kindred, 
May  the  Lord  Saviour  have  pity  on  all  of 

you,  women, 

For  into  the  hands  of  the  People,  judging, 
The  Judge  has  now  given  Aligi  di  Lazaro. 

181 


THE    DAUGHTER      [ACTm. 

That  upon  the  deed  infamous  we  may  take 

vengeance, 
A  deed  upon  all  of  us  fallen,  and  having  no 

equal, 

Nor  among  our  ancestors  known  to  memory, 
And  may  it  forever  be  lost  from  memory, 
By  the  grace  of  the  Lord,  from  son  to  son, 

henceforth. 
Now,   therefore,   the   penitent   one   we   lead 

hither, 
That   he   may   receive    the   cup    of    forget- 

fulness 

From  you  here,  Candia  della  Leonessa, 
Since  he  out  of  your  flesh  and  your  blood  was 

the  issue, 
To  you  't  is  conceded  to  lift  the  veil  of  sable, 

^*£S~* 

'T  is  yielded  you  lift  to  his  mouth  the  cup  of 

forgetting, 
Since  his  death  unto  him  shall  be  exceeding 

bitter. 

Salvum  fac  populum  tuum,  Domine! 
(Save,  O  Lord,  these  thy  people) 
Kyrie  eleisont 

182 


SCENBL]  OF        JORIO 

THE  CROWD 

Christy  eleison,  Kyrie  eleisonl 

[IONA  places  his  hand  on  ALIGI'S  shoulder. 
The  penitent  then  takes  a  step  toward  his 
mother,  and  falls,  as  if  broken  down,  upon 
his  knees.~\ 

ALIGI 

Praises  to  Jesus  and  to  Mary! 
I  can  call  you  no  longer  my  mother, 
'T  is  given  to  me  to  bless  you  no  longer. 
This  is  the  mouth  of  hell  —  this  mouth! 
To  curses  only  these  lips  are  given, 
That  sucked  from  you  the  milk  of  life, 
That  from  your  lips  learned  orisons  holy 
In  the  fear  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty, 
And  of  all  of  his  law  and  commandments. 
Why  have  I  brought  upon  you  this  evil?  — 
You  —  of  all  women  born  to  nourish  the  child, 
To   sing   him   to   sleep   on   the   lap,   in   the 

cradle!  — 

This  would  I  say  of  my  will  within  me, 
But  locked  must  my  lips  remain. 

183 


THE    DAUGHTER      [ACTm. 

—  Oh,  no!    Lift  not  up  my  veil  of  darkness 
Lest  thus  in  its  fold  you  behold 

The  face  of  my  terrible  sinning. 

Do  not  lift  up  my  veil  of  darkness, 

No,  nor  give  me  the  cup  of  forgetting. 

Then  but  little  shall  be  my  suffering, 

But  little  the  suffering  decreed  me. 

Rather  chase  me  with  stones  away, 

Ay,  with  stones  and  with  staves  drive  and 

chase  me, 

As  you  would  chase  off  the  mastiff  even 
Soon  to  be  of  my  anguish  companion, 
And  to  tear  at  my  throat  and  mumble  it, 
While  my  desperate  spirit  within  me 
Shall  cry  aloud,  "  Mamma !    Mamma !  " 
When  the  stump  of  my  arm  is  reeking 
In  the  cursed  sack  of  infamy. 

THE  CROWD  [with  hushed  voices] 

—  Ah!  the  mother,  poor  dear  soul!    See  her! 
See  how  in  two  nights  she  has  whitened! 
She  does  not  weep.    She  can  weep  no  longer. 

—  Bereft  is  she  of  her  senses. 

184 


SCENEl.]  OF         JORIO 

—  Not  moving  at  all.     Like  the  statue 
Of  our  Mater  Dolorosa.     O  have  pity! 

—  O  good  Lord,  have  mercy  on  her! 
Blessed  Virgin,  pity,  help  her! 

—  Jesus  Christ  have  pity  on  her! 

AIIGI 

And  you  also,  my  dear  ones,  no  longer 

'T  is  given  me  to  call  you  sisters, 

'T  is  given  me  no  longer  to  name  you 

By  your  names  in  your  baptisms  christened. 

Like  leaves  of  mint  your  names  unto  me, 

In  my  mouth  like  leaves  that  are  fragrant, 

That  brought  unto  me  in  the  pastures 

Unto  my  heart  joy  and  freshness. 

And  now  on  my  lips  do  I  feel  them, 

And  aloud  am  I  fain  to  say  them. 

I  crave  no  other  consolation 

Than  that  for  my  spirit's  passing. 

But  no  longer  to  name  them  'tis  given  me. 

And  now  the  sweet  names  must  faint  and 

wither, 

For  who  shall  be  lovers  to  sing  them 

185 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrin. 

At  eve  beneath  your  casement  windows? 
For  who  shall  be  lovers  unto  the  sisters 
Of  Aligi?    And  now  is  the  honey 
Turned  into  bitterness;    O  then,  chase  me, 
And,  like  a  hound,  hound  me  away. 
With  staves  and  with  stones  strike  me. 
But  ere  you  thus  chase  me,  O  suffer 
That  I  leave  unto  you,  disconsolate, 
But  these  two  things  of  my  sole  possession, 
The  things  that  these  kindly  people 
Carry  for  me:   the  sheep-crook  of  bloodwood, 
Whereon  I  carved  the  three  virgin  sisters, 
In  your  likeness  did  I  carve  them, 
To  wander  the  mountain  pastures  with  me,  — 
The  sheep-crook,  and  the  silent  angel, 
That  with  my  soul  I  have  been  caning. 
Woe  is  me  for  the  stain  that  stains  it! 
But  the  stain  that  stains  it  shall  fade  away 
Some  day,  and  the  angel  now  silent 
Shall  speak  some  day,  and  you  shall  hearken, 
And  you  shall  heed.     Surfer  me  suffer 
For  all  I  have  done!    With  my  woe  profound 
In  comparison  little  I  suffer! 

186 


SCENEI.1  OF         JORIO 

THE  CROWD 

Oh!  the  children,  poor  dear  souls!    See  them! 
See  how  pale  and  how  worn  are  their  faces! 

—  They  too  are  no  longer  weeping 

—  They  have  no  tears  left  for  weeping. 
Dry  their  eyes  are,  inward  burning. 

—  Death  has  mown  them  with  his  sickle,  — 
To  the  ground  laid  them  low  ere  their  dying. 
Down  they  are  mown  but  not  gathered. 

—  Have  mercy  upon  them,  O  merciful  one  I 
Upon  these  thy  creatures  so  innocent. 

—  Pity,  Lord  Jesus,  pity!    Pity! 

ALIGI 

And  you  who  are  maiden  and  widow, 
Who  have  found  in  the  chests  of  your  bridal 
Only  the  vestment  of  mourning, 
The  combs  of  ebon,  of  thorns  the  necklace, 
Your  fine  linen  woven  of  tribulation, 
Full  of  weeping  your  days  ever  more, 
In  heaven  shall  you  have  your  nuptials, 
And  may  you  be  spouse  unto  Jesus! 
And  Mary  console  you  forever! 

187 


THE    DAUGHTER,     [ACTUI. 

THE  CROWD 

O  poor  dear  one!    Until  vespers 
Hardly  lasting,  and  now  drawing 
Her  last  breath.    Lost  her  face  is 
In  her  hair  of  gold  all  faded, 
Even  all  her  golden  tresses. 

—  Now  like  flax  upon  the  distaff, 

—  Or  shade-grown  grass  for  Holy  Thursday. 

—  Yes,  Vienda,  maiden- widow, 
Paradise  is  waiting  for  you. 

—  If  she  is  not,  then  who  is  Heaven's? 

—  May  Our  Lady  take  you  with  her! 

—  Put  her  with  the  white  pure  angels! 

—  Put  her  with  the  golden  martyrs! 

IONA  DI  MTOIA 

Aligi,  your  farewells  are  spoken, 
Rise  now  and  depart.     It  grows  late. 
Ere  long  will  the  sun  be  setting. 
To  the  Ave  Maria  you  shall  not  hearken. 
The  evening  star  you  shall  not  see  glimmer. 
O  Candia  della  Leonessa, 
If  you,  poor  soul,  on  him  have  pity, 

188 


SCENEl.]  OF        JORIO 

Give,  if  you  will,  the  cup,  not  delaying, 
For  the  mother  art  thou,  and  may  console  him. 

( 

THE  CROWD 

Candia,  lift  up  the  veil,  Candia! 

Press  his  lips  to  the  cup,  Candia, 

Give  him  the  potion,  give  him 

Heart  to  bear  his  suffering.    Rise,  Candia! 

—  Upon  your  own  son  take  pity. 

—  You  only  can  help  him ;  to  you,  't  is  granted. 

—  Have  mercy  upon  him!    Mercy,  O  mercy! 

[ORNELLA  hands  the  mother  the  cup  con- 
taining the  potion.  FAVETTA  and  SPLENDORE 
encourage  the  poor  mother.  ALIGI,  kneeling, 
creeps  to  the  door  of  the  house  and  addresses 
the  dead  bodyJ] 

ALIGI 

Father,  father,  my  father  Lazaro, 
Hear  me.     You  have  crossed  over  the  river, 
In  your  bier,  though  it  was  heavier 
Than  the  ox-cart,  your  bier  was, 
And  the  rock  was  dropped  in  the  river. 
Where  the  current  was  swiftest,  you  crossed  it; 

189 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrm. 

Father,  father,  my  father  Lazaro, 
Hear  me.     Now  I  also  would  cross  over 
The  river,  but  I  —  I  cannot.    I  am  going 
To  seek  out  that  rock  at  the  bottom. 
And  then  I  shall  go  to  find  you: 
And  over  me  you  will  pass  the  harrow, 
Through  all  eternity  to  tear  me, 
Through  all  eternity  to  lacerate  me. 
Father  of  mine,  full  soon  I  '11  be  with  you! 

[The  mother  goes  toward  him  in  deep  hor- 
ror. Bending  down  she  lifts  the  veil,  presses 
his  head  upon  her  breast  with  her  left  hand, 
takes  the  cup  ORNELLA  offers  and  puts  it  to 
AJLIGI'S  lips.  A  confusion  of  muffled  voices 
rises  from  the  people  in  the  yard  and  down  the 
path.~\ 

IONA  DI  MIDIA 

Suscipe,  Domine,  servum  tuum. 
(Accept,  O  Lord,  this  thy  servant.) 

Kyrie  eleison. 

THE  CROWD 

Christe  eleison,  Kyrie  eleison, 
Miserere,  Deus,  miserere. 

190 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

—  Do  you  see,  do  you  see  his  face? 
This  do  we  see  upon  earth,  Jesus! 

—  Oh!    Oh!     Passion  of  the  Saviour! 

—  But  who  is  calling  aloud?     And  where- 

fore? 

—  Be  silent  now!    Hush,  hush!    Who  is  call- 
ing? 

—  The  daughter  of  Jorio!    The  daughter  of 
Jorio,  Mila  di  Codra! 

—  Great  God,  but  this  is  a  miracle ! 

—  It  is  the  daughter  of  Jorio  coming. 

—  Good  God!     She  is  raised  from  the  dead! 

—  Make   room!   Make   room!   Let  her  pass 
by! 

—  Accursed  dog,  are  you  yet  living? 
-Ah!    Witch  of  Hell,  is  it  you? 

—  She-dog!     Harlot!     Carrion! 

—  Back!    Back!    Make  room!    Let  her  pass! 

—  Come,  she-thing,  come!    Make  way! 

—  Let  her  pass  through!    Let  her  alone!    In 
the  Lord's  name! 

[AxiGi  rises  to  his  feet,  his  face  uncovered. 
He  looks  toward  the  clamoring  crowd,  the 

191 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrm. 

mother  and  sisters  still  near  him.  Impetu- 
ously opening  her  way  through  the  crowd, 
MILA  appears. 

MELA  DI  CODRA 
Mother  of  Aligi,  sisters 
Of  Aligi,  Bride  and  Kindred, 
Standard-bearer  of  Wrong-Doing,  and  you, 
All  ye  just  people!    Judge  of  God! 
I  am  Mila  di  Codra. 
I  come  to  confess.    Give  me  hearing. 
The  saint  of  the  mountain  has  sent  me. 
I  have  come  down  from  the  mountain, 
I  am  here  to  confess  in  public 
Before  all.     Give  me  hearing. 

IONA  DI  MEDIA 

Silence!    Be  silent!    Let  her  have  leave 
To  speak,  in  the  name  of  God,  let  her. 
Confess  yourself,  Mila  di  Codra. 
All  the  just  people  shall  judge  you. 

MELA 

Aligi,  the  beloved  son  of  Lazaro, 
Is  innocent.     He  did  not  commit 

192 


Sam  I.]  OF      JORIO 

Parricide.    But  by  me  indeed  was  his  father 
Slain,  by  me  was  he  killed  with  the  axe. 

ALIGI 

Mila,  God  be  witness  that  thou  liest! 

IONA 

He  has  confessed  it.     He  is  guilty. 
But  you  too  are  guilty,  guilty  with  him. 

THE  CROWD 

To  the  fire  with  her!    To  the  fire  with  her! 

Now,  lona, 
Give  her  to  us,  let  us  destroy  her. 

—  To  the  brush  heap  with  the  sorceress, 
Let  them  perish  in  the  same  hour  together! 

—  No,  no !    I  said  it  was  so.    He  is  innocent. 

—  He  confessed  it!     He  confessed  it!     The 
woman 

Spurred  him  to  do  it.    But  he  struck  the  blow. 
-  Both  of  them  guilty!    To  the  fire!    To  the 
fire! 
is  193 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acrin. 

MILA 

People  of  God!    Give  me  hearing 

And  afterward  punish  me. 

I  am  ready.    For  this  did  I  come  here. 

IONA 

Silence!    All!    Let  her  speak! 

MILA 

Aligi,  dear  son  of  Lazaro, 

Is  innocent.    But  he  knows  it  not. 

ALIGI 

Mila,  God  be  witness  that  thou  liest. 
Ornella  (oh!   forgive  me  that  I  dare  to 
Name  you!)    bear  thou  witness 
That  she  is  deceiving  the  good  people. 

MILA 

He  does  not  know.    Aught  of  that  hour 
Is  gone  from  his  memory.     He  is  bewitched. 
I  have  upset  his  reason, 
I  have  confused  his  memory. 

194 


SCENE!.]  OF        JORIO 

I  am  the  Sorcerer's  daughter.     There  is  no 

Sorcery  that  I  do  not  know  well, 

None  that  I  cannot  weave.     Is  there  one 

Of  the  kindred  among  you,  that  one 

Who  accused  me  in  this  very  place, 

The  evening  of  Santo  Giovanni, 

When  I  entered  here  by  that  door  before  us? 

Let  her  come  forth  and  accuse  me  again  I 

LA  CATALANA 

I  am  that  one.    I  am  here. 

MTTA 

Do  you  bear  witness  and  tell  for  me 
Of  those  whom  I  have  caused  to  be  ill, 
Of  those  whom  I  have  brought  unto  death, 
Of  those  whom  I  have  in  suffering  held. 

LA  CATALANA 

Giovanna  Cametra,  I  know. 
And  the  poor  soul  of  the  Marane, 
And  Alfonso  and  Tillura,  I  know. 
And  that  you  do  harm  to  every  one. 

195 


THE    DAUGHTER      [Acriii. 

MTT.A 

Now  have  you  heard  this  thing,  all  you  good 
people, 

What  this  servant  of  God  hath  well  said  and 
truly? 

Here    I    confess.      The   good    saint   of   the 
mountain 

Has  touched  to  the  quick  my  sorrowing  con- 
science, 

Here  I  confess  and  repent.    O  permit  not 

The  innocent  blood  to  perish. 

Punishment  do  I  crave.    O  punish  me  greatly! 

To  bring  down  ruin  and  to  sunder 

Dear  ties  and  bring  joys  to  destruction, 

To  take  human  lives  on  the  day  of  the  wedding 

Did  I  come  here  to  cross  this  threshold, 

Of  the  fireplace  there  I  made  myself 

The  mistress,  the  hearth  I  bewitched, 
/  The  wine  of  hospitality  I  conjured, 
\  Drink  it  I  did  not,  but  spilled  itWith  sorceries. 

The  love  of  the  son,  the  love  of  the  father, 

I  turned  into  mutual  hatred; 

In  the  Heart  of  the  bride  all  joy  strangled, 

196 


]  OF         JORIO 

And  by  this  my  cunning,  the  tears 
Of  these  young  and  innocent  sisters 
I  bent  to  the  aid  of  my  wishes. 
Tell  me  then,  ye  friends  and  kindred, 
Tell  me  then,  in  the  name  of  the  Highest, 
How  great,  how  great  is  this  my  iniquity! 

CHORUS  OF  THE  KINDRED 

It  is  true!    It  is  true!    All  this  has  she  done. 

Thus  glided  she  in,  the  wandering  she-dog! 

While  yet  Cinerella  was  pouring 

Her  handful  of  wheat  on  Vienda. 

Very  swiftly  she  did  all  her  trickery, 

By  her  evil  wishes  overthrowing 

Very  swiftly  the  young  bridegroom. 

And  we  all  cried  out  against  it. 

But  in  vain  was  our  crying.    She  had  the  trick 

of  it. 

It  is  true.    Now  only  does  she  speak  truly. 
Praises  to  Him  who  this  light  giveth! 

[AuGi,  with  bent  head,,  his  chin  resting  on 
his  breast,  in  the  shadow  of  the  veil,  is  intent 
and  in  a  terrible  perturbation  and  contest  of 

197 


in 


THE    DAUGHTER     [Acrni. 

lj  the  symptoms  at  the  same  time,  appearing 
him  of  the  effect  of  the  potion.'] 


AUGI 


No,  no,  it  is  not  true;   she  is  deceiving 

You,  good  people,  do  not  heed  her, 

For  this  woman  is  deceiving  you. 

All  of  them  here  were  all  against  her, 

Heaping  shame  and  hatred  on  her, 

And  I  saw  the  silent  angel 

Stand  behind  her.    With  these  eyes  I  saw  him, 

These  mortal  eyes  that  shall  not  witness 

On  this  day  the  star  of  vesper. 

I  saw  him  gazing  at  me,  weeping. 

O  lona,  it  was  a  miracle, 

A  sign  to  show  me  her,  God's  dear  one. 

MILA 

O  Aligi,  you  poor  shepherd! 
Ignorant  youth,  and  too  believing! 
That  was  the  Apostate  Angel! 

[They  all  cross  themselves,  except  AUGI, 
prevented  from  doing  so  by  his  fetters,  and 

198 


SCENEL]  OF        JORIO 

OENELLA  who,  standing  alone  at  one  side  of 
the.  porch,  gazes  intently  on  the  voluntary 
victim.] 

Then  appeared  the  Apostate  Angel 

(Pardon  of  God  I  must  ever  lack, 

Nor  of  you,  Aligi,  be  pardoned!) 

He  appeared  your  own  two  eyes  to  deceive. 

It  was  the  false  and  iniquitous  angel. 

MARIA  CORA 

I  said  it  was  so.    At  the  time  I  said  it. 
It  was  a  sacrilege  then,  I  cried. 

LA  CINERELLA 

And  I  said  it,  too,  and  cried  out 

When  she  dared  call  it  the  guardian  angel 

To  watch  over  her.     I  cried  out, 

"She  is  blaspheming,  she  is  blaspheming!" 

MHA 

Aligi,  forgiveness  from  you,  I  know, 
Cannot  be,  even  if  God  forgive  me. 
But  I  must  all  my  fraud  uncover. 

199 


THE    DAUGHTER     [Acrnx 

Ornella,  oh!   do  not  gaze  upon  me 
As  you  gaze.     I  must  stay  alone! 
Aligi,  then  when  I  came  to  the  sheepstead, 
Then,  even,  when  you  found  me  seated, 
I  was  planning  out  your  ruin. 
And  then  you  carved  the  block  of  walnut, 
Ah,  poor  wretch,  with  your  own  chisel, 
In  the  fallen  angel's  image! 
(There  it  is,  with  the  white  cloth  covered, 
I  feel  it.)     Ah!    from  dawn  until  evening 
With  secret  art  I  wove  spells  upon  you! 
Remember  them,  do  you  not  now  of  me? 
How  much  love  I  bestowed  upon  you! 
How  much  humility,  in  voice  and  demeanor  — 
Before  your  very  face  spells  weaving? 
Remember  them,  do  you  not  now  of  me? 
How  pure  we  remained,  how  pure 
I  lay  on  your  shepherd's  pallet? 
And  how  then?  —  how  (did  you  not  inquire?) 
Such  purity  then,  timidity,  then, 
In  the  sinning  wayfarer 
Whom  the  reapers  of  Xorca 
Had  shamed  as  the  shameless  one 

200 


OF    JORIO 


Before  your  mother?    I  was  cunniag, 

Yea,  cunning  was  I  with  my  magic. 

And  did  you  not  see  me  then  gather 

The  chips  from  your  angel  and  shavings, 

And  burn  them,  words  muttering? 

For  the  hour  of  blood  I  was  making  ready. 

For  of  old  against  Lazaro 

I  nursed  an  old-time  rancor. 

You  struck  in  your  axe  in  the  angel,  — 

0  now  must  you  heed  me,  God's  people! 
Then  there  came  a  great  power  upon  me 
To  wield  over  him  there  now  fettered. 

It  was  close  upon  night  in  that  ill-fated 
Lodging.     Lust-crazed  then  his  father 
Had  seized  me  to  drag  toward  the  entrance, 
When  Aligi  threw  himself  on  us, 
In  order  to  save  and  defend  me. 

1  brandished  the  axe  then  with  swiftness. 
In  the  darkness  I  struck  him, 

I  struck  him  again.     Yea,  to  death  I  felled 

him! 
With  the  same  stroke  I  cried,  "You  have 

killed  him." 

201 


THE    DAUGHTER     [ACTIIL 

To  the  son  I  cried  out,  "  You  have  killed 
him. 

Killed  him! "  And  great  in  me  was  my 
power. 

A  parricide  with  my  cry  I  made  him  — 

In  his  own  soul  enslaved  unto  my  soul. 

"  I  have  killed  him!  "  he  answered,  and  swoon- 
ing, 

He  fell  in  the  bloodshed,  naught  otherwise 
knowing. 

[CANDIA,  with  a  frantic  impulse,  seizes  with 
both  hands  her  son,  become  once  more  her  own. 
Then,  detaching  herself  from  him,  with  wilder 
and  threatening  gestures,  advances  on  her 
enemy,  but  the  daughters  restrain  her.~\ 

CHORUS  OF  KINDRED 

Let  her  do  it,  let  her,  Ornella! 

—  Let  her  tear  her  heart!    Let  her  eat 
Her  heart!    Heart  for  heart! 

Let  her  seize  her  and  take  her 
And  underfoot  trample  her. 

—  Let  her  crush  in  and  shiver 

202 


SCENBLJ  OF        JORIO 

Temple  to  temple  and  shell  out  her  teeth. 
Let  her  do  it,  let  her,  Ornella! 
Unless  she  do  this  she  will  not  win  back 
Her  mind  and  her  senses  in  health  again. 

—  lona,  lona,  Aligi  is  innocent. 

—  Unshackle  him!    Unshackle  him! 

—  Take  off  the  veil!    Give  him  back  to  us! 

—  The  day  is  ours,  the  people  do  justice. 

—  The  righteous  people  give  judgment. 

—  Command  that  he  now  be  set  free. 

[MiLA  retreats  near  the  covered  angel, 
looking  toward  ALIGI,  who  is  already  under 
the  influence  of  the  potion.'] 

THE  CROWD 

—  Praises  be  to  God!     Glory  be  to   God! 

Glory  to  the  Father! 

—  From  us  is  this  infamy  lifted. 

—  Not  upon  us  rests  this  blood-stain. 

—  From  our  generation  came  forth 
No  parricide.    To  God  be  the  glory! 

—  Lazaro  was  killed  by  the  woman, 
The  stranger,  di  Codra  dalle  Fame. 

203 


THE    DAUGHTER     [Acrm. 

—  We  have  said  and  pronounced:    he  is  in- 

nocent. 
Aligi  is  innocent.     Unbind  him! 

—  Let  him  be  free  this  very  moment! 

—  Let  him  be  given  unto  his  mother! 

—  lona,  lona,  untie  him !    Untie  him ! 
Unto  us  this  day  the  Judge  of  Wrong-Doing 
Over  one  head  gave  us  full  power. 

—  Take  the  head  of  the  sorceress! 

—  To  the  fire,  to  the  fire  with  the  witch  f 

—  To  the  brushheap  with  the  sorceress  I 
-O  lona  di  Midia,  heed  the  people! 

Unbind  the  innocent!     Up,  lona! 

—  To  the  brush  heap  with  the  daughter 
Of  Jorio,  the  daughter  of  Jorio! 

MHA 

Yes,  yes,  ye  just  people,  yes,  ye  people 
Of  God!    Take  ye  your  vengeance  on  me! 
And  put  ye  in  the  fire  to  burn  with  me 
The  Apostate  Angel,  the  false  one, — 
Let  it  feed  the  flames  to  burn  me 
And  let  it  with  me  be  consumed! 

204 


SCENEl.1  OF        JORIO 

ALIGI 

Oh!   voice  of  promising,  voice  of  deceit, 

Utterly  tear  away  from  within  me 

All  of  the  beauty  that  seemed  to  reign  there, 

Beauty  so  dear  unto  me!     Stifle 

Within  my  soul  the  memory  of  her! 

Will  that  I  have  heard  her  voice  never, 

Rejoiced  in  it  never!    Smooth  out  within  me 

All  of  those  furrows  of  loving 

That  opened  in  me,  when  my  bosom 

Was  unto  her  words  of  deceiving 

As  unto  the  mountain  that 's  channelled 

With  the  streams  of  melting  snow!    Close  up 

within  me 

The  furrow  of  all  that  hope  and  aspiring 
Wherein  coursed  the  freshness  and  gladness 
Of  all  of  those  days  of  deceiving! 
Cancel  within  me  all  traces  of  her! 
Will  it  that  I  have  heard  and  believed  never! 
But  if  this  is  not  to  be  given  me,  and  I  am 

the  one 

Who  heard  and  believed  and  hoped  greatly, 
And  if  I  adored  an  angel  of  evil, 

205 


THE    DAUGHTER     [Acrm. 

Oh!  then  I  pray  that  ye  both  my  hands  sever, 
And  hide  me  away  in  the  sack  of  leather 
(Oh I    do  not  remove  it,  Leonardo), 
And  cast  me  into  the  whirling  torrent, 
To  slumber  there  for  years  seven  hundred, 
To  sleep  in  the  depths  there  under  the  water; 
In  the  pit  of  the  river-bed,  years  seven  hundred, 
And  never  remember  the  day 
When  God  lighted  the  light  ia  my  eyesl 

ORNELLA 

Mila,  Mila,  'tis  the  delirium, 

The  craze  of  the  cup  of  forgetfulness 

To  console  him  he  took  from  the  mother. 

THE  CROWD 

—  Untie  him,  lona,  he  is  delirious. 

—  He  has  taken  the  wine  potion. 

—  Let  his  mother  lay  liim  down  on  the  settle. 

—  Let  sleep  come !     Let  him  slumber ! 

—  Let  the  good  God  give  him  slumber. 

[IONA  gives  the  standard  to  another  and 
comes  to  ALIGI  to  untie  him.'] 

206 


SCENE  I.] 


OF    JORIO 


ALIGI 


Yes,  for  a  little  while  free  me,  lona, 
So  that  I  may  lift  my  hand  against  her 
(No,  no,  burn  her  not,  for  fire  is  beautiful!) 
So  that  I  call  all  the  dead  of  my  birthplace, 
Those  of  years  far  away  and  forgotten, 
Far,  far  away,  far,  far  away, 
Lying  under  the  sod,  fourscore  fathom, 
To  curse  her  forever,  to  curse  her  I 

MELA  [with  a  heart-rending  cry] 

Aligi,  Aligi,  not  you! 

Oh!   you  cannot,  you  must  not. 

[Freed  from  the  manacles,  the  veil  with- 
drawn, ALIGI  comes  forward  but  falls  back 
unconscious  in  the  arms  of  his  mother,  the  older 
sisters  and  the  kindred  gathering  around  him.~\ 

CHORUS  OF  KINDRED 

You  need  not  be  frightened.    'Tis  the  wine 

only, 

'T  is  the  vertigo  seizes  him. 
—  Now  the  stupor  falls  upon  him. 

207 


THE    DAUGHTER     [ACTm. 

—  Now   slumber,   deep   slumber,    o'erpowers 
him. 

—  Let  him  sleep,  and  may  God  give  him 

peace  I 

—  Let  him  lie  down!    Let  him  slumber! 

—  Vienda,  Vienda,  he  is  yours  again. 

—  From  the  other  world  both  will  return  now. 
Laus  Deo!    Laus  Deo!    Gloria  Patri! 


puts  the  manacles  upon  MILA'S 
wrists,  who  offers  both  arms  and  covers  her 
head  with  the  black  veil.,  then  taking  the  stand- 
ard of  Wrong-Doing  he  pushes  her  toward  the 
crowd.] 

IONA 

I  give  to  you,  just  people, 
Into  your  hands,  Mila  di  Codra, 
The  daughter  of  Jorio,  that  one 
Who  does  harm  to  every  one. 
Do  you  perform  justice  upon  her, 
And  let  her  ashes  be  scattered. 
O  Lord,  save  thy  people. 
Kyrie  eleison. 

208 


SCENBl.]  OF        JORIO 

THE  CROWD 

Christe  'eleison!    Kyrie  eleison! 
To  the  fire,  to  the  flames  with  the  daughter 
Of  Jorio!     The  daughter  of  Jorio! 
And  to  the  fire  with  the  Apostate  Angel! 
To  the  brushheap  with  them!     To  hell-fire 
with  them  1 

ORNELLA  [with  full  voice  in  majesty] 

Mila,  Mila!     My  sister  in  Jesus, 
I  kiss  your  feet  that  bear  you  away! 
Heaven  is  for  thee! 

MILA  \jrom  within  the  crowd} 

The  flame  is  beautiful !    The  flame  is  beautiful ! 


THE   END 


